LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Class NEISON-H-CHASE- I THE STORY OF TWO SALONS N- H- CHASE, ALBANY, N> Y. JOUBERT From a portrait in the possession of the Joubert family THE STORY OF TWO SALONS BY EDITH SICHEL AUTHOR OF " WORTHINGTON JUNIOR," A NOVEL EDWARD ARNOLD (pitfitofler fo t$t Jnot'a dfftce LONDON NEW YORK 37 BEDFORD STREET 70 FIFTH AVENUE 1895 J7C33 O $? TO E. M. R. ; Ayant 1'esprit et le coeur hospitaliers." JOUBERT. August 2J, 1895 220885 CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION ...... 9 THE LITTLE HOUSEHOLD OF THE SUARDS . .21 PAULINE DE BEAUMONT . . . . 157 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS JOUBERT ..... Frontispiece PAULINE DE BEAUMONT . . To face page 162 CHATEAUBRIAND . ,, 262 BOOKS CONSULTED FOR "THE LITTLE HOUSEHOLD OF THE SUARDS." Essai de Memoires sur M. Suard. By Madame Suard. Lettres de Ferney. By Madame Suard. Encyclopedic Universelle. Memoires de Garat. Concerning the Quarrel of Mr. Hume and J. J. Rousseau. By Horace Walpole. Memoires de Marmontel. Le Salon de Madame Necker. By D'Haussonville. Life of Colman, containing Letters from Garrick. By Peeke. FOR "PAULINE DE BEAUMONT." Pauline de Beaumont. By M. Bardoux. Correspondants de Joubert. By M. Paul Raynal. Lettres de Joubert. Edited by M. Paul Raynal. Pensees de Joubert. Memoirs d'Outre-Tombe. By Chateaubriand. Chateaubriand et son siecle. By Sainte Beuve. M. Joubert. By Sainte Beuve. Memoires Secretes. By M. d'Alonville. Correspondance Secrete. Memoires de Bertrand de Moleville. French Revolution. By Thomas Carlyle. L'Esquisse d'un Maitre. By M. Le Normant. Correspondance inedite. By Sismondi. Lucile de Chateaubriand. By Anatole France. INTRODUCTION r I ^HERE are some secrets which the past -L keeps jealously from us. The mystery of Greek beauty is guarded by marble gods and goddesses ; the colour and sunlight of the old Italian masters are buried with them beyond our reach in Venetia and Tuscany ; the devout science which made austerity lovely in Fugue and Prelude seems no less a lost possession ; and, search as we will, the secret of the art of society lies hidden in France, in the Paris of the eighteenth century, in the graves of tender ladies and frilled philosophers, as sparkling as they were profound. A few men and women there were who carried the tradition of last century into this one. It inspired them to preserve the glamour, the grace of the Old World, and to combine them with the new force, the graver purpose born of the Revolution. But the ponderous spirit of the INTRODUCTION Forties, railways and regular education, chased the last dear ghosts away, nor have they returned, even for an hour. It is stirring, however, to summon them before us ; to see them as they painted themselves and each other, from every side, in many memoirs, in countless letters, still warm with life and its yearnings ; and to discover, if that were possible, the secret of the charm they shed about them. As we read, as we gaze at their portraits written or painted, a subtle atmosphere steals round us, sweet, penetrating, radiant, indefinable. We can hardly tell what it is made of of many things, without doubt : of the salt of men's wisdom and the flame of their passions ; of the soft brilliance of women's wit ; above all, of the fragrance of women's hearts, single, reckless, and faithful in their devotion, yet so refined and so piercing in their insight that they seemed better than brains for all human knowledge. For they thought with their hearts, these women, swiftly and deeply, thus readjusting sadly enough for them the balance between themselves and their Encyclopaedist lovers, who so often felt with their brains. This difference certainly contributed to the excitement of their intercourse and to the in- INTRODUCTION it cessantly fresh emotion that kept it alive. Yet there was more than this. Beneath the turbulence and the foam of sentiment and wit there flowed the current of intense feeling ; and it was this fact that gave society then a vitality which it has never had since. It is common to consider it as an institution in itself shallow and frothy ; but it has only become so because it has no deep truth below the surface ; when it had, it proved that it possessed a soul. The feelings that make society now are but bubbles, and we are for ever mourn- fully longing to substitute close intercourse for our system of crowded drawing-rooms, by which we see everybody and nobody at the same moment. In those days, close intercourse and society were identical ; the salons only held in the evenings a collection, large or small, of the couples, trios or quartets, who met and loved and lived together every day and every group of lovers or friends knew and cared for every other group. There was no compromise amongst them. The force of their feelings, whether of love or friend- ship, lay in their concentration. Concentration, though it allows of wit, shuts out humour ; and humour is in many ways inimical to passion. English humour, at any rate, would not permit 12 INTRODUCTION the exaggerations of behaviour and of thought which form part of salon habits ; or those daily comings and goings which interrupt the ordinary routine. We only allow amusing conversation at stated hours ; and even then, we do not enjoy it till we have become accustomed to the person with whom we converse. This may partially account for the fact that brilliant country houses, from the day of Sir William Temple downwards, have always represented our most successful form of intercourse, as well as hospitality, and have flourished where salons do not. When we have had salons, like Lord Holland's, Lady Blessing- ton's, or Mr. Nassau Senior's, they have too frequently been affected by the practical English character. Bills were passed there, before they were heard of in Parliament ; duties were removed from imports, whilst two Frenchmen would be discussing the theory of Protection. Beneath the wit there was business ; romance and emotion were not prominent features ; and these dinner- tables represented good company, discreet in its relations, rather than vivid intercourse, so close as to be fusion. Our insular reserve, perhaps also our Northern morals, would never admit those essential intimacies into general society. For this reason, possibly, Miss Burney, who had, INTRODUCTION 13 if not a salon, at least a parlour, could not go beyond it ; whilst Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale, who collected a circle, and seem the nearest approach to their contemporaries in Paris, made no lasting effect upon social life. The same may be said of the Miss Berry s, who, although they gathered together all the distin- guished men and women of their long day, from Horace Walpole to Thackeray, were unable to transmit their mantle to younger shoulders. As for the poets and wits of Queen Anne's reign, they did not invite women to Wills' and White's ; though the club life which they created was as original and vigorous as the salon life in France, and much more suited to the English ideal of good comradeship and intellectual exchange. The disappearance of the salon world in France is a greater mystery caused by subtler reasons. It would be trite to dwell on the complex con- ditions of modern existence which make leisurely intercourse, passionate correspondence perhaps passion itself impossible. Newspapers and reviews choke intellectual discussion, and men instinctively reserve the expression of their ideas till they are paid for them. Sympathies and possibilities have widened everywhere ; there i 4 INTRODUCTION seems more to do and less time to do it in, than ever before. Yet we feel that the French always possess the material the temperament for society - though the conditions which developed it are past. France may, or may not, rank as a political force, but it must for ever be acknowledged that it has the genius for intellectual charm a charm which found complete expression in the society of last century, and owed its sway not only to suave manners and fastidious senses, but still more to a nice discrimination and to true beauty of spirit. This is, at any rate, the golden bequest which these Frenchwomen have left us. They spent their lives in loving ; they made love into a finished art. In the lives of those they loved, there was no fact, from an omelette to the Theory of Perfectibility, which their hearts did not master. When they did not meet once or twice a day, they wrote letters as concentrated in feeling as they were keen in discussion of current topics or of human nature. It is strange to think how many must have been destroyed. One collection alone, belonging to a certain M. Pondeveylle, contained 16,000 epistles from one lady, in a correspondence of only eleven years. His executors wisely crammed INTRODUCTION 15 them into the oven. " Persons have been known here," writes Horace Walpole from Paris, "who wrote to one another four times a day." It would almost seem as if their days perhaps their nights must have been longer then than now. Their letters to their friends differ little from those to their lovers, for their ardour embraced not only one, but every kind of emotion with the same zest ; if friendship was a passion with them, so was hero-worship. Voltaire, Rousseau, Buffon, Fontenelle, and many lesser lights, had their votaries who wrote pages to them on their special subjects and on their personal virtues ; pages crude and often absurd in their adulation, but always sincere. An Englishwoman would scold at such waste of firing upon their altars, and declare that such gush must be incompatible with sincerity ; but warmth and truth of expression can go together, and these women led the life of sentiment, not of sentimentality. Society, however, cannot subsist on sentiment alone. It must be amused and absorbed, or it would dissolve ; there must be intercourse of mind between the men and women of whom it is made. Never, indeed, was intellectual excitement so potent or so sustained as in these eighteenth- century circles ; never were women keener and 16 INTRODUCTION wiser in thought, or happier in expressing it. Philosophers, men of science, men of letters, con- sulted them upon the weightiest topics, and they replied with the seriousness of men and the grace of women. The secret of their skill defies analysis perhaps it depended on the delicate interweaving of mind and feeling. But whether it lay in the fact that their intellects were so emotional, or that their emotions were so intel- lectual, it is now impossible to say. And if (as was, alas, frequent) they carried the love which absorbed them beyond the bounds, is it for us to judge them, these "ladies of old time, noble and charming even in their errors " ? They lived, as M. d'Haussonville has pointed out to us, at a moment when there was no religious reason for morality. Old beliefs had crumbled and new ones were not yet set up, yet women's hearts felt the same need for self-sacrifice and for worship as before. They sought their temple in human affections, and made their gods of frail men, trying "even in their weaknesses to recover and to attain a certain ideal whose con- fused image their eyes had half beheld." Carried away by the adoration for intellect then prevailing, it is not surprising that they should have stepped out of the Narrow Way, which for them led no- INTRODUCTION 17 whither, and transgressed the limits which they attributed to conventionality. And when everything is said, they remain supreme in charm. Too much stress is perhaps laid upon their enchanted setting upon the wax candles, the cupids, the powder and the brocade. Such trappings were indeed less prominent than is supposed, and belonged -especially to the luxurious days of the Regent or of the Pompadour. The salons of which we write were often shabby, though the curtains and hangings were chosen with care to suit their owners' complexions, and their very atmosphere breathed refinement. But furniture and draperies alike were dominated and overwhelmed by personality by the faces that expressed it, many in number, infinitely different. We can see them now some fair, some wise, some mocking, some plain, and a few pensive with the tender light of memory in their eyes, all alike animated by the glow of aspiration and desire. We can hear their words, as they lose themselves in important subjects. They are talk- ing gravely and well, eagerly, yet soberly, to the philosophes, the men of letters, who sit or stand at their feet, their great heads covered by festive periwigs ; or a fencing-match of wit is going on between them, and bons mots fall crisp and bright 1 8 INTRODUCTION from their lips, probably leaving the women victorious ; or they are analysing, through and through, the character of some friend, with the finest shades of a fine modern novelist with an ease, a grace, a gift of apt expression all their own. There is old Madame du Deffand of the stiletto-tongue, who with every contrivance to possess a heart, never acquired one ; and there is the gracious-hearted Madame d'Houdetot, who made an extra sense of sensibility ; and the naughty Marquise de Bouffiers, who wished to retire to a desert island with her " eighty best friends and twenty-five more who were absolutely necessary to her " ; and Madame Necker, intense, courageous, clinging, hiding her fiery feelings in habits of austerity. Form after form flits in and out of her salon : little Madame Suard, seeking heroes and finding them everywhere ; Madame Geoffrin, benevolent, cold, warm - witted, and unlettered ; Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, too vehement to be constant ; and, last but not least, known and loved by a few, with tiny figure, pale face, and profound eyes, Pauline de Montmorin, daughter of the Minister, in all the sweetness of her eighteen years to be heard of later as Pauline de Beaumont, the friend of Joubert, the INTRODUCTION 19 lover of Chateaubriand, the heart of the shabby little salon in the Rue Neuve du Luxembourg. We, who know their future, look upon them all with a yearning to warn them with dismay. For towards their magic shore comes rolling slowly but surely the tide of blood which swept so many away. It was these same women, living on sensibility and luxury, wfio most of them endured loss, imprisonment, death, with holy patience and supreme courage. But for the moment, are they not here, gracious and gay, holding out their white hands to us, beckoning ? I look up to greet them and they have vanished, and suddenly I realise that they are dead that they are gone, never to revive. We have good things unknown to them, more important than theirs. Our faith is wider and warmer ; our outlook larger. We have sturdier morals and more ardent activities. But the lesser good must go. Iphigenia had to be sacrificed for our victory and charm of life has fled to some hidden temple. It will be urged as con- solation for this loss, that matter is more than manner : yet the way in which we express existence is also of importance. It is our sense of this which makes us venture to revive some of the less - known salons of 20 INTRODUCTION eighteenth - century Paris. The Suards and Pauline de Beaumont are names unfamiliar to English ears. But the byways are more ad- venturous than the highroad, and provide us with many unexpected points of view. For this reason alone they would be worth pursuing ; still more so if they could but impart some perception of "that sociability which distinguishes France; that charming interchange of intellect, as easy as it is rapid ; that absence of bitterness or prejudice ; that inattention to fortune or to reputation ; that natural levelling of all ranks ; that equality of mind which makes French society incomparable, and redeems its faults." THE LITTLE HOUSEHOLD OF THE SUARDS CHAPTER I SOME persons, we should perhaps say per- sonalities, are born to rule a circle ; other people, socially important, if not famous, are, by nature, agreeable pegs on which to hang associa- tions more illustrious than themselves. Their gift is to provide, rather than to talk to serve, and not to dominate. If they do not make history, they compile it, and allow their own names to disappear amidst those of their authorities. Such were the Suards, now seldom mentioned, who began humbly, loved culture, and lived simply, gaining reputation by their simplicity, so that they were known amongst the great as " The Little Household." Suard's solid literary judgment and impartial mind his independence, his sympathy, and his reticence, together with his achievements as a journalist, gave him real moral and intel- lectual value. He was a born editor, and as such, v 24 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS far more beloved by writers and thinkers than they were by each other. An excellent listener, he had also an express power of making and keeping good friends both amongst men and women a power in nowise lessened by a certain coldness which prevented his taking offence, or seeing people too closely. Rapidly becoming a universal counsellor, he certainly exercised more power in that way than as Permanent Secretary to the Academy, an office filled by him in later years. Marmontel was his affectionate colleague ; Holbach and Helvetius were his admirers ; Grimm, Diderot, and d'Alembert his enthusiastic friends ; Voltaire approved of him ; Buffon was devoted to him ; Condorcet lived for years with him and his wife ; and last, but not least, he kept the peace with Rousseau. As a confidant of stormy-hearted ladies, specially of the witty Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, he had quite a reputation ; whilst his love for English books and constitutional methods attracted to his house all the English and Scotch in Paris. He translated the histories of Robert- son, and corresponded constantly with him ; he was intimate with David Hume, Horace Walpole, and the Edgeworths ; Garrick adopted him as his crony, and did not like parting with him for a single hour during his stay in Paris, THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 25 Little Madame Suard, on her side, had a large heart, and just enough of inspired folly to attain the popularity of the flatterer, by the honest means of the hero-worshipper. It must also be added that she possessed considerable personal beauty. Her adulation of Voltaire, Condorcet, and a host of others, though usually absurd, was at least as sincere as it was acceptable ; and if she was not made for posterity, she was specially created for a warm and living present. Protected by the potent Madame Geoffrin and the conscien- tious Madame Necker, the young couple soon became the fashion throughout the Encyclopaedist world. Their poverty, too, represented a novel amusement to their patrons, and an acceptable vent for the kindness and philanthropy of which there was then so much that could find no outlet. She emulated her husband as a reviewer, but loved literature better than she judged it. She could, however, write prettily. There is distinct charm, for instance, in a set of letters to her husband (written for publication), in which she describes a man - friend she has made in his absence, who spends every evening with her by the fireside, counselling her and taking possession of her mind, This Mentor she finally reveals to 26 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS be no other than Seneca, whose works she has been reading". Suard was probably not much alarmed ; he knew that his influence over her was complete and lasting. She was for ever in a flutter, and he was for ever calming her. Had he not been as sensible as he was, his certainty of her would have amounted to fatuity, for her little rages even her flirtations left him serene in the consciousness that they only arose from her wounded love for him. At one time perhaps rather bored by her affection he is said to have neglected her for literary enterprises ; she, who had many admirers before her marriage, knew how to revenge herself. Suard showed no disapproval. One day she told him she had ceased to love him. " That will come back," he coldly replied. " But it is because I love another," she cried. " That will pass," was all his answer. But no mention of any disagreement disturbs her Honeymoon Memoirs of their married life, and they were, in truth, a very happy, if somewhat over-anxious couple : as English, strange to say, in their matrimonial as in their political ideals. They were the Edwin and Angelina of the French literary world. If one of them was out five minutes beyond the hour appointed, the THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 27 other was immediately ready to institute a search- party ; he always asked her permission to sup out without her, in the full conviction of her never- failing consent, though she did not permit him to desert her at soirees. He used to beg her to follow his example and dine out with her friends, but she preferred solitude. She has no words for his wisdom in dealing with her faults, especi- ally her besetting sin of greediness. " I only digested well beneath a cloudless sky," she tells us ; and his tones were so sweet when he im- plored her not to eat too much, that she instantly took back the plate she had sent for more of some dainty on the table. But as in the details of love (only fit for the hearth which they grace) the best people fre- quently fall below their own mental level ; so in its bigger events they often rise above themselves and, for her husband, Amelie Suard was always courageous, attaining during the Revolution a pitch of heroism remarkable in such a timid soul. Fed on the best literature, the choice of which he never ceased to govern, great ideas found a congenial soil in her heart and bore fruit in due season. But Suard, whilst he valued her eager- ness, was by no means blind to her deficiencies of mind, She had no taste for the analytic spirit 28 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS of the day, preferring romantic or didactic literature. " She is no more capable of seizing a humorous point than an abstract idea," he once wrote. "She would not be aware that she was entertaining a fop or a fool, unless she discovered that she was being bored, and then she is capable of dying of him, not of laughing at him. She has no social tact a quality which does not come from the heart, but from the mind, and often from cunning. But put her in the midst of natural beauty, and you will find that scenery, whether it be grand or merely sweet and pleasing, will equally take possession of her imagination. She has the power of describing a thing immediately and of reproducing it vividly months afterwards. A truth pointed out will escape her ; a truth ex- pressed by Bossuet or Montesquieu, in all its breadth and height, remains in her mind for ever. She reads every novel and every history, and never forgets them. Vauvenargues does not feel better than she does what distinguishes Racine from Corneille, and the most eloquent panegyrists of Fe*nelon have not come up to what she feels as she reads him. She is too happy when she reads beautiful verse or prose to have any temptation to write herself," THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 29 In early life, Suard had gone through adven- tures so striking that they would have been adequate to a bigger reputation. His character was certainly more remarkable than his mind, and wherever his will was exercised, he came off triumphant. Born at Besan^on, about 1734, his life knew no events till his nineteenth year, when a friend of his had a duel with the nephew of the War Minister of the day. The latter was killed ; the other man fled at once ; and Suard, who was witness, and the only person on the spot, was arrested as a murderer. Too noble to betray his friend, he vouchsafed no answer to any question, and was consigned first to a terrible cell in the city prison, where he nearly died of fever ; then, on his continued silence, and through the per- sonal spite of the governor of the town, he was sent away to the fortress of the He Sainte Marguerite, a kind of Bastille, where many men remained buried alive and unheard of for years. His very parents were ignorant of his where- abouts, and writing materials were an impossibility in his deep dungeon, with its one window-slit high up in the massive wall. Here he endured the worst misery, with a forti- tude beyond his eighteen years. The rascally governor of the fortress was allowed five hundred 30 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS francs a year for each prisoner, but only used three hundred, so that, in addition to darkness, hardship, and solitude, the boy was almost starved. A nameless horror took possession of him. To keep his health he danced alone in his dungeon, and fenced with no foils but his own arms and no other opponent than the stone wall. One night, when his oppression of spirit had become well-nigh unbearable, he fell asleep, and in his slumbers heard an ineffable melody played on a flute which pierced straight to his heart. When he awoke, his vague horror had vanished, and cheerfulness returned. His dream was indeed a good omen, for soon after this the governor sent him pen and paper, a Spanish Bible, and Bayle's Diction- ary, a combination which implies more good- will than literary habit in their owner. It could not, however, have been luckier. Suard plunged into a close study of the Scriptures, especially of the race of Israel, resulting in a profound and ineradicable faith in the existence of God which influenced him all through life. Then he turned to Bayle, and proceeded to make a revised edition of his work, a compendium of universal history strengthening both to the brain and judgment of the student. His position in prison, between the Bible and Bayle, was significant of his whole THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 31 mental attitude in later life, and may have had some power in deciding it. Diversion from his scholarly labours had also to be invented. He discovered that, by slipping and scrambling, he could reach the porthole in the wall and look out upon the Mediterranean. Here, day after day, he watched the gleaming sails of unattainable ships, and "knew that human beings were near, but that they could neither see nor hear him. Here, too, he daily beheld the bathers ; these, he rather feverishly tells us, generally consisted of beautiful floating ladies, whose distant charms seem slightly to have over- powered his brain. He became a prey to all kinds of visions, which he sensibly recognised as the symptoms of a weakened mind. Trembling (as he describes) with the fear of insanity, he resolved to adopt some severer discipline than his studies, and took to arithmetic and to drawing mathematical problems upon the walls. A great mathematician told him in after days that, out of his own intellect, he had evolved and demonstrated the most abstruse logarithms. But even these matter-of-fact figures " began to appear to him as if they were on fire " ; he was at the end of his tether. One day, at this period, his door was pushed 32 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS open, and a handsome young man entered. This was the Chevalier de Luz, a fellow-prisoner for some disgraceful crime, a bold rake and fascinat- ing scoundrel, who had (we are told) " a genius for vice," but who was at any rate good company, and now visited Suard every evening. He knew all the tricks of the prison, and promised that if Suard wrote to his parents, the letter should reach its destination. Suard did write several times, and the Chevalier kept his word, but used the correspondence in order to extort money from Suard's father, on the strength of which, by astounding audacity, he escaped, leaving Suard behind him. But the latter was now in com- munication with those interested in his welfare ; influence was brought to bear, authorities were stirred, with the result that, after eighteen months of imprisonment, the young man was set free. He was now about twenty, of height above the average, with " rather small eyes, full of mind, sweetness, and finesse" His graceful address, convincing sincerity, and power of self-possession without coldness, had the effect of charming people at first sight. He was made for Paris and to Paris he shortly went. In our days, a young man of parts, who comes THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 33 to a large town, can hardly prove his claim to talent without severe struggle with many com- petitors. It is strange, in comparing that age with ours, to find how different things were then. Anybody of moderate gifts and ambitions arriv- ing in Paris, could be pretty certain of making a mark, whilst real merit was never left to itself. There was doubtless^ less competition, and therefore more scope for able men. Journal- ism, which now rejects as superfluous so many unfortunates, was then in its first youth and crying for recruits. Mind was at a premium, and patronage, in its most amiable stage, no longer a tyrant, but still a protector. But the most important reason seems to have lain in the essential arrangements of eighteenth- century society, at its best when Suard appeared on the scene. It was the moment at which the reign of Louis XV. met that of Louis XVI. ; when the sunset of the old Court shone serenely over the cradle of the sleeping Revolution, and the tragedies both of death and of birth were yet hidden. The power of the Pompadour was fading, and with it went the subordination of weight to epigram and depth to gaiety ; whilst the rising race of philosophers in love with freedom, and of scientists in love with facts, was 3 34 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS already deepening the tone of fashionable thought, and leading people to consider matter more than manner. The society of that day may be roughly divided into three regions : the world of the Court, which still owned but a single aim to be amused ; choos- ing its men of letters with that view, conducting every kind of intrigue with the severest etiquette, and hedging itself round with a barrier which only opened to allow the Duchesse de Luxem- bourg, the Duchesse de Lauzun, and the Princesse de Poix to pass into the domain of letters and conversation. Below these heights, came the world of the Salons, where grace kept company with thought, and which included the intellectual aristocrats, the cultured middle class, the distinguished foreigners, and the famous Abbes. Lastly, we enter the more serious domain of the Petits Soupers, those banquets of the Encyclopaedists consisting only of men : of philosophers, Economists, and men of science such as were given by Helve*tius and the Baron d'Holbach. Here it was that many of the new bottles for the new wine were unconsciously fabricated, amidst talk which was usually as grave as it was brilliant. THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 35 With the first of these, the Court-world, Suard had little or nothing to do. With the two last he became connected almost at once. The Salons and the Little Suppers belonged, in fact, to each other, for the philosophers who gathered together at the latter had spent the rest of their time in the former, at the feet of the ladies who ruled them. Both these provinces were needful to the kingdom of the Encyclopaedists, whose choice of creeds, as well as that of their wives, was deter- mined by their usefulness only ; but whose loves were directed according to laws even more natural than those they investigated for the sake of science. Their heat, however, was but that of ice which burns ; with them passions, often as faithful as they were illegal, were accompanied by strange coldness ; and the most generous dreams of the intellect for humanity by complete inaction. Thought and deed lived divorced from one another ; reality was always discussed and seldom encoun- tered ; Deism by no means excluded servile materialism, whilst the feverish increase of know- ledge seemed to cause a corresponding reaction in sentiment. The concentrated life of the head could only find relaxation in a concentrated life of the heart, demanding no justification but its own warmth, consuming the faggots of morality, hiding 36 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS their ashes by flame, and leaving little behind it but smoke and an altar : too often that of a woman's soul. Never, perhaps, was there a time when sincerity was so insincere with the natural result that never since the Middle Ages had body and spirit lived such separate lives ; it was, so to speak, the reverse side of asceticism which the philosophers brought about. Nevertheless, there were compensations. If the men of 1750 clung to the flesh-pots, the cultivated women have rarely been more capable of renouncing them. Women are seldom pioneers and these ladies often lived luxuriously because it was the custom of their class to do so, and no standard had been set up for them. Madame de Stael (directly after her marriage), when Marie- Antoinette reproached her for an extravagant table, at once reduced her entries from forty to eighteen, and considered herself economical ; but she would willingly have lived on potted meat and Swiss milk for the sake of those she loved. Plain living and high thinking were never so well combined by Frenchwomen as at the date we speak of. They took interest in ideas for their own sake ; and, either as mistresses or friends, equally understood the conditions of intel- lectual companionship. Talk has consequently THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 37 seldom been better than then; and if there was never so much passion, there has also per- haps never been such absence of coquetry in society. " Their women," says Horace Walpole of the French, "are the first in the world in everything but beauty ; sensible, agreeable, and infinitely informed. The philosophes"- he adds, with a touch of jealousy, " except Buffon, are solemn, arrogant, dictatorial coxcombs I need not say superlatively disagreeable." At a moment when science meant success, the scholarly, dilettante Walpole was hardly at his strongest, though he was popular in all the chief drawing-rooms. At the moment of Suard's arrival, three women ruled Paris through their salons; Madame du Deffand, Madame Geoffrin, and Madame Necker. Madame du Deffand, aristocratic to the tips of her fingers, a wit to the tip of her tongue, and a pedant to the depths of her brain, was the survivor of the old tradition, with a taste for new ideas, rather than a disciple of them. Once the mistress of the Regent, she possessed all the fascination of intellectual beauty ; she kept up its traditions, and even in her latter years always chose her curtains to suit her complexion. "What a need of other 38 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS people, and yet what contempt of them ! " it was once said of her. She had acute sensibilities, which often appeared like a heart the one gift not in her possession. The want of it, together with her blindness, heightened her senses and her wish for affection without giving her the means of fulfilling it. These means she tried hard to manufacture. To Voltaire she gave an abstract devotion, and enjoyed sharpening her blade upon that master- sword the only match for her weapon, even in that world of flashing steel ; whilst, when she was seventy, or what she called soixante-et-mille ans, she fell in love with Horace Walpole, and, in spite of his frequent retreats, lavished on him the warmest feeling of which she was capable. But her craving for affection appears to us to be not even pathetic, springing as it did from the one idea which regulated her life a horror of being bored. It was impossible to her to endure one moment of dulness, and she could use all her senses even her want of them to prevent this catastrophe. An Economist came to see her one day, and began to talk upon his special topic. " I wonder what the name can be of that tire- some book you are reading ? " she exclaimed. " Pray put it down, and do not trouble yourself further." THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 39 Yet bored she always was, in spite of her efforts, whether plunged in a hyperbolic friend- ship with her bonne-maman, the young Duchesse de Choiseul, or in the midst of her daily routine. She rose at six in the evening (morning and afternoon never existed for her), and sat up all night : receiving visits first from her friend d'Alembert and from her lover, the President He*nault, who visited or wrote to her every day for twenty years ; then from the rest of the world always excepting the Economists. Of them she made persistent fun, as part of an age which did not regard her as the first of women ; Turgot, to her, was "a fool and a beast," the others she ignored. But it was not only in good company that she found distraction ; sometimes she resorted to minor pleasures. " Her herculean weakness" (writes Horace Walpole), " which could not resist strawberries and cream after supper, has sur- mounted all the ups and downs which followed her excess." As a last resource against tedium, she took to herself a companion, Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, poor, witty, enchanting, the more so for being plain. The tyrant du Deffand made her read aloud so constantly that it gave her an affection of the lungs for the rest of her life. She knew how to revenge herself, however, and 40 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS Madame du Deffand had perhaps counted too much on her plainness. The charming companion, with great presence of mind, rose an hour before her mistress, and contrived between five and six to hold a secret salon of her own, consisting of Madame du Deffand's chief habituts, who had by now become Mademoiselle de Lespinasse's warm admirers. D'Alembert fell deeply in love with her. One evening the elder woman came down a few minutes earlier than her wont, and found him making love to the younger. Her fury knew no bounds, and she chased from her house "the ser- pent she had (somewhat insufficiently) cherished." It was a short-sighted action, for the whole salon rose in indignation, and followed the serpent into the next street. Even the President Renault deserted ; whilst the Duchesse de Luxembourg, Madame du Deffand's greatest friend, went over to the new favourite, and actually furnished her apartment. Here the triumphant Mademoiselle de Lespinasse set up the most successful salon in Paris. She and d'Alembert remained bound together by a strong mutual attraction, due, so they said, to the touching fact that they were both illegitimate children. After a dangerous illness, during which she nursed him, they set up house together, attracting many fresh recruits. THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 41 Amongst others was Suard, whom she gradually came to trust with her most intimate confidences. He early became acquainted with the rivals of Madame du Deffand, Madame Geoffrin and the young Madame Necker, who were united by the closest intimacy. Madame Geoffrin was, at this date, an elderly woman, with no beauty save her snow-white hair. Born of bourgeois family, she was as destitute of education as she was full of wits. Though for twenty-five years she had been the centre of the Encyclopaedists, she never opened their books, or indeed any others, and to the end of her days she spelled according to her fancy. A savant once begged that he might dedicate a grammar to her. "What! dedicate a grammar to me J" she cried. " To me, who cannot even spell!" In revenge she read men and women with keen understand- ing, and deserved a diploma in the study of human inconsistency. It was said of her that " savoir faire was her supreme science," a gift specially shown in her choice of a husband. Wisely pre- ferring dulness to the clash of minds, she married the founder of a mirror- manufactory, with no taste except that for the trompette marine, which he played incessantly. His literary powers were not great. On finishing, for the third time, the 42 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS same volume of the same book, "It is very good," he admitted, "only there seems a little repeti- tion." But Madame Geoffrin appears never to have regretted her union, and even to have re- mained faithful to him. She could not idealise, and so was seldom disappointed. Stranger still, she did not like others to idealise her. She constantly reproached Madame Necker, who had an exalted friendship for her, with "perpetual enthusiasm and incapability of coldness." " One day " (she writes to her) " you will punish me for your illusions, by refusing to allow me a single good quality. . . . The angels set very little store by me, and I don't care a fig for them. . . . I shan't keep company with them, but what I do sincerely wish is that you should love me truly, and see me just as I am." Like all students who have matriculated in the art of living, she made a creed of compromise. " Hers was a strange character, " wrote Marmontel, "difficult to grasp or to paint, because it was in half-tints and delicate shades, though it was very decided. She was kind but not sensitive ; benevolent without any of the charms of bene- volence; impatient to help the unfortunate, so long as she need not see them for fear of being moved." THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 43 She only possessed two warm qualities irrita- tion with folly, and zeal for her friends' morals. " An affectionate scold, she toiled at perfecting the characters of her acquaintance," insisting, in softest tones, upon their submission to her coun- sels, jealous of their confidence, and tyrannising over their constitutions. In return, she gave them all her wisdom and much" of her kindness. When Madame Necker was ill, Madame Geoffrin sat with her daily, bringing her own arm-chair in her coach. She nursed Marmontel through a fever with the greatest good-humour, and was full of little attentions for him. Yet when his in- discretion brought him to the Bastille, and again, when his tragedy was suppressed for its political allusions, she refused to receive him into her house. Illness was the affair of the Creator (the only rival she owned) ; failure was the folly of men. She was just as cautious intellectually, and only entertained the more advanced Encyclopaedists in secret, especially Holbach and Diderot, though both of them were her friends and had founded her reputation. The rest, together with all the artists and men of letters, she entertained on Wednesdays and Fridays at dinner, keeping her intimates to supper. " The good cheer at these latter meals was 44 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS succinct" writes Marmontel- "generally a chicken, some spinach, and an omelette. The company was not numerous, at most five or six of her par- ticular friends, or a ' quadrille ' of men and women from the great world, grouped as it pleased them, and very glad to be with one another. . . . The Venus of these suppers was the alluring and piquant d'Egmont, daughter of the Duke of Richelieu. Madame Geoffrin, like most bourgeoises, had a weakness for aristocrats, "whom she knew how to tempt into her salon, flattering them without seeming to do so." It was perhaps her powers of attraction that made the envious du Deffand condemn her as absurdly underbred. This was to all intents a libel, so far as her habits were concerned ; " she was simple in her tastes, in her clothes, in her furniture, but distinguished in her simplicity " ; and, more than this, she knew how to amuse. A great mistress of the art of story-telling, "she had the good sense to speak only of what she knew well, and to allow better informed people to talk about other topics ; always polite and attentive, and never even appearing bored with what she did not understand. But she was all the more skilful in presiding over and keeping in hand these two societies, which were THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 45 naturally rather free. . . . It must be owned, how- ever, that her company lacked one charm liberty of thought. With her gentle ' Voila qui est bienj she never left off holding our minds as in a leash ; and when she was in the wrong, it was no laugh- ing matter." In discussions on public affairs, she insisted on facts without comments. And as for her " celestial politics," Marmontel assures us that "in order to be on good terms with heaven, without being on bad terms with the world, she had invented for herself a sort of clandestine devotion. She went to mass as to worldly ad- vancement, had an apartment in a convent, and a pew in the Capucin Chapel." The good old middle-class and its grasp of decorum had perhaps also something to do with this. Though she braved bodily hardships, travelling one winter to Warsaw to visit her adopted son, Stanislas, King of Poland, she would risk no spiritual adventure. It was safer to be orthodox. One day, when she discovered that Marmontel, the philosophe, was to stand godfather to a friend's child, she insisted on hearing him his beads, his Pater, and his answers as sponsor, and would not let him go till he knew them perfectly. He went straight from her to the font, in the full assurance of his competence ; but 46 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS the Curb's first question, " What is your parish ? " which had not been in his catechism, found him without an answer. Her salon was assiduously attended by the five best-known Abbes : Morellet, the fencer in Economics ; Galiani, the mimic and improvisatore, a tiny, plastic Neapolitan, with eager wit and mer- curial perceptions ; Maury, whose brain was " too vehement and too green," and who was always ready for a fray ; Delille, the familiar of boudoirs, who said that he " loved solitude so long as he had somebody to whom to say it " ; and Raynal, the journalist, who hated nothing except beggars. Their presence, however, had nothing to do with the orthodoxy of their hostess. The Abbes played a great and unique part in the society of that time partaking of confidential doctor, con- fidential lawyer, and accommodating director. They were, so to speak, the tactful ambassadors from heaven to Paris, and, like most diplomatists, became naturalised in that metropolis. It was the Abb6 Raynal who, making Suard's acquaintance soon after his arrival, first got him work on the Mercure. He had begun by a bank-clerkship, which he had instantaneously thrown up because he thought it a sinecure ; then THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 47 he had been tutor to the sons of the Duke of Nassau, a task by no means congenial to him. He was only too glad to welcome a literary protector in the Abbe*, and to be introduced by him to Madame Geoffrin, who thenceforward became his patron. As he was never guilty of exaggeration or folly, their intercourse remained almost unruffled, excepting for "her lectures on his haughtiness when he rebuffed the advances of a powerful but insolent person to whom she had presented him. " When one hasn't a shirt to one's back, one must have no pride," she said to him. " On the contrary," he replied, "it is just then that one must have it, because one has got nothing else." Happily her introductions did not stop here. It was at her house that, almost directly, he met Fontenelle, then old and rather deaf. The young man's heart thrilled, and the past became alive to him when the philosopher began the con- versation with : "I remember one day hearing Madame Lafayette say at Madame de S6vigne"s " which sent Suard back happy to his solitary apartment. Good luck pursued him. He wrote an article upon Montesquieu which pleased the latter, who expressed a wish to meet the author, and had a long and flattering conversation with 48 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS him. He came into contact with all the best people at Madame Geoffrin's, and again at the Hotel of Madame Necker, with whom he speedily became acquainted. It was greatly to Madame Geoffrin's credit that, far from being jealous, she had a warm affection for Madame Necker, who annexed in three years the guests whom it had taken the older woman a quarter of a century to collect. Yet it was rather by intellectual sway than by charm that Madame Necker achieved this victory. The Swiss minister's daughter, now wooed by Gibbon, now sending her father's grey nag for the curate-lovers with whom she held theological flirtations ; the president and inventor of the youth- ful Symposium by the Lausanne Fountain ; the brave bread-winner and governess in aristocratic families ; the penniless companion whom the stately Necker courted in the place of her mistress must have had Minerva's helmet as well as her brains. It was not that she despised lighter pleasures ; Marmontel rather spitefully describes first meeting her at a ball " pretty enough, but dancing badly," and rushing up to him to intro- duce herself, and beg him to come and dine with her, because she had heard so much of him, THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 49 But her nature was serious. Geneva will out, and the cassock showed beneath the hoop. This contrast gave distinction both to her character and her salon ; it helped her to hide a fiery heart behind a measured, even rigid exterior ; at the same time it concentrated her mind on the re- ligious questions then under discussion, and made her the Egeria of the EncylopSedists ; a Calvinist Egeria, if not by creed, at least by temperament. Through her own firm belief in God and the soul, accentuated by frequent bodily suffering which deepened her natural tendencies, she had the power of tempering the extremes of the men of science ; whilst her large mind admitted all their ideas, and easily took the intellectual point of view. Her Genevan friends reproached her about her freethinking society. " I have atheists for friends," she replied. "Why not? They are unhappy friends." Her salon at the Hotel Leblanc in the Rue Clery thus bore quite a different stamp to Madame Geoffrin's, though they saw precisely the same people. Here, together with the Abbes already mentioned, came that backbiter in ruffles, Marmontel, the courtly old gossip, half sentimental, half malicious ; the " Little Tempest Naigeon," the naturalist, splut- tering, exclaiming, and prefacing all his con- 50 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS versation with " Chimeras, errors, prejudices ! " Thomas, Madame Necker's knight, who never stirred from her side, and who presents a singular combination of subtlety and triteness ; Marivaux, the master of fine shades in novels and plays ; Saint Lambert, the admirer and translator of Bolingbroke, not gay himself, but easily ani- mated by others, and considered the model of a politeness " which came from the heart and went to the heart " ; d' Alembert, gay and serene, "a mixture of strength and weakness, whose strength came from virtue, whilst his weakness came from kindness " ; with him, his Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, full of "the fire which circulated through her veins and her nerves," the only woman whom Madame Geoffrin admitted to her intimate suppers. As an antidote to her warmth, we have Grimm, mincing, cold, and effusive, glittering with meteoric accuracy, one-sided sarcasm, and stilted perora- tions ; now laughing at " Hypatia Necker " for being " d&vote in her own way, wishing to be a sincere Huguenot, Socinian, pr Deist, though in her determination to be something, she ends by having no reason for anything " ; now making the poor lady burst into tears at table, during a religious argument of an advanced nature, in THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 51 which he refuses to be conquered by her ; then writing a letter of apology, in which his chief concern is the possible effect of her tears upon her digestion ; at one moment scolding her for living at ten minutes' distance from him, at another describing his intellectual frivolities with Catherine of Russia, and his life at the Court of Frederick the Great, where he loved to ^appear dressed as a shepherd with a crook and green ribbons. More sympathetic is the figure of Diderot, the jack-of-all-trades in literature, " better known by intercourse than by his writings"; straight from Bohemia and Mademoiselle Volland ; a comet without a heaven, as perverse as he was luminous ; a creature of intuitions, who was fertile and fruitless, deep and shallow, coarse and delicate, striking and commonplace, all in the same breath. " He would rather," it was written, ''invent the minuet all over again than dance it like other people." But, gipsy as he was, he too found a sanctuary with Madame Necker. " How many things you will see here" so he says when he sends her one of his books "which would never have been either thought or written, if I had had the honour of knowing you sooner. I dare believe " (but here we detect him laughing in his gold-laced sleeve) "that the purity of your 52 THE STORY OF TWO SALON soul would have passed into mine, and that I also should have become a kind of angel." Sometimes, as we have seen, came the fast- aging Fontenelle, who had never been known either to laugh or to cry, so that even Madame Geoffrin reproached him with his indifference : Fontenelle with his genius for suspending judg- ment, whom the same lady asked what he should do if she confessed herself guilty of a murder. " I should wait, Madame," he replied. And in the wake of all these appeared the ambitious Helvetius, absorbed in the search for a new Idea, and illuminated by his gift of eternal youth; Holbach, the Patron, "calm, polite, never familiar," and the owner of a prodigious memory ; the high-souled Minister Turgot, eager for re- form ; Creutz, the lover of the fine arts, " impas- sioned for the beautiful in ethics full of informa- tion never carried away, but often enchanted " ; the handsome Milord Stormont, ambassador for England, called "The Beautiful Englishman" by the Parisians who saw him and " The Good Englishman " by those who lived with him ; the Baron Gleichen, Danish ambassador, who never opened his lips without salting the conversation, or allowed an irrational interjection to pass un- punished. "That piece was very beautiful and THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 53 very difficult ! " a musical enthusiast said to him, after an indifferent performance. " I only wish it had been impossible" the Baron warmly replied. He was no more merciful to a gushing lady who beheld the foolish King Christian of Denmark during his stay in Paris. " What a head he has on his shoulders ! " she exclaimed to Gleichen. "A crowned head, Madame," lie answered, with a deep bow. Last and, in his own house, least, the stately, periwigged Necker strayed in and out of the company, with distraught countenance, and brain far away in fiscal Utopias. Madame Geoffrin, as we know, entertained on Mondays and Wednesdays, whilst Holbach had Thursdays. Madame Necker was therefore com- pelled to adopt Friday for her general day, and Tuesday for her intimates. On Fridays she provided diner maigre, which (according to the naughty Madame du Deffand) was usually badly cooked. Dinner that lady declared to be "the fourth end of man," though she could not remember the other three ; whilst the aristocratic Marquise de Crdquy considered Madame Necker's dinner-hour of four in the afternoon so ill-bred and so impossible, that she left the house vowing never to set foot in it again. 54 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS The ladies of Hypatia's salon were indeed few and far between, and it was only on Fridays that they were admitted at all, together with men of letters and artists of all sorts, Clairon, the tragic actress, so much admired by Garrick, being prominent amongst them. Her aristocratic acquaintance came then also, especially the saintly Amelie de Lauzun, pensive and sweet, the snowdrop of that careless world ; and the downright Madame de Fert^ Imbault, Madame Geoffrin's daughter, and, like many daughters of gifted women, a reaction against her mother, though endowed with some of her talents. Tired of intellect, she instituted at her house an " Order of Lampooning Knights and Fooling Ladies," who were bound to utter nothing but "witty stupid- ities." At the same time, she constituted herself Madame Necker's Mentor, warning her severely against the friendships with Madame du Deffand and others who were unconventional in their morals. Conversation was often varied by the per- formance on the clavecin of the newest music ; occasionally, also, there were moving recitations by Clairon, supported by Marmontel and La Harpe ; or readings by some rising poet or novelist. It was here that Bernardin de St. Pierre, THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 55 the somewhat servile seeker after fame, read Paul et Virginie for the first time. It is almost a relief to find that even those brilliant salons had their failures, and that "the impression of weariness left by this performance has remained an almost classical memory." They did not always meet in Paris. In the summer, the whole party drove out to St. Ouen, the Neckers' country-seat, at a short distance from Paris ; or they had a sparkling pique-nique at St. Cloud, returning late to town by the Bois- de- Boulogne. But the conversation which has come down to us is that of the Hotel in the Rue Cle*ry, and it was here that Suard figured as a talker. His wife described him in after years as a thinker and a dreamer, rather silent in society ; it is amusing to discover that amongst his friends he was famous for his powers of contradiction. Early in his Parisian life, we find him at the Neckers', amongst a group described as consisting of " the absent-minded Necker, the argumentative Morellet, the emphatic Thomas, the light-hearted Marmontel, and the gallant poet Bernard," another frequenter of the Hotel Leblanc, whom Voltaire nicknamed " Bernard the Nice." M. BERNARD begins the conversation : You 56 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS look wonderfully well, Madame ; your complexion is fresher than these flowers. MADAME NECKER : Poets are gallant. M. BERNARD : Say susceptible. MADAME NECKER : One can unite these two qualities ; but I fear much they are perishing. Really the Abbe* is plunging me into despair ; this mortal hour has he been growling against women, and these gentlemen only excite and applaud him. L'ABBE MORELLET : Yes, Madame, I main- tain that women haven't the ghost of good sense, and I should have convinced you, if you had deigned to listen to me ; but it is impossible to argue with you, and you prove our thesis wonderfully. What say you, M. Necker? M. NECKER (absent-mindedly) : Many thanks, Monsieur, I don't take any. MADAME NECKER : Madame Riccoboni, for instance, excels in her own line. M. SUARD : But, first of all, has she a line of her own ? MADAME NECKER : Surely she must have one, to write with such grace and such ardour, and to interest her readers as she does. M. SUARD : Write ! I don't understand what THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 57 you mean by writing : she arranges sentences well enough, without any imagination and without any ideas. MADAME NECKER : Oh, sir, you exaggerate! M. SUARD : I don't understand what you mean by exaggeration. Exaggeration is a word that has no sense. Nobody exaggerates. One expresses one's thought, and there's the end of it. MADAME NECKER : I never can agree with M. Suard, even upon the weather ; for if I say that it is raining, he cannot understand what I mean by rain. M. SUARD : Ah, charming lady, you are making fun of me ! But, h propos, M. Thomas is keeping neutral ; that's not fair. M. THOMAS : I confess, sir, that women are often wanting in the divine fire which animates us, in the noble enthusiasm which prolongs our midnight watches and immortalises them. But if they do not soar with us into Jheaven, they beautify the earth. A good woman is the most beautiful sight to a sensitive soul. M. MARMONTEL : Good ! All very well, my dear Thomas ; but kindly carry off the good ones with you to heaven, and leave the others to stroll with us on the earth. 58 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS M. BERNARD : Fie, sir ! You talk blasphemy, and forget you are in the sanctuary. The greatest personality amongst the philo- sophes was, however, never seen either at the Hotel Leblanc, or in any other society. Buffon, " the great colourist " of thought, the profoundest and most sympathetic figure in the new scientific world (the more so that he lived apart from it), had long since withdrawn to his house near the Zoological Gardens, of which he was Intendant. Here he spent his days watching the animals and developing his theories, many of which, especially his rudimentary conception of evolution, fore- stalled those of Darwin. For fourteen years he carried on with Madame Necker a friendship touched with pathos the romance of an old man for a young woman. It is affecting to read of his humility about his own mind, as compared to hers, or to hear him tell her that happiness consists in losing nothing that one has enjoyed. From the first moment of their intercourse they began to discuss ultimate topics, and it is not surprising that he should have chosen her ear for the exposition of his faith. For a living faith, though of a vague description, he did possess ; a faith belonging to a deeper nature than that of THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 59 his contemporaries, though it differed little from theirs in substance. To the outward forms of worship he always clung, and though he is said to have called God and Nature synonymous, he put such a warm personality into Nature ("the worker for ever active who knows how to use everything whose means are time, space, and matter, whose object is the universe, whose aim is movement and life ") that his scepticism is almost religious. His purpose was to unite science and belief, and one of his first presents to Madame Necker was a pamphlet he had written, attempting to reconcile the account of the Creation in Genesis with his own theory of the formation of the globe. Soul he believed in, after an intellectual fashion, at any rate so far as his amie was concerned. " The weaker your body grows, the more strength you seem to have in your thoughts," he writes to her. "The two substances are very distinct in you, whilst in me they fuse into one. I feel the faculties of my mind decrease with those of my body, and that is the basis of the difference in our opinions." It was probably through Madame Necker that Suard learned to know Buffon, who was afterwards to play an important, if transitory role in his 60 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS affairs. With the rest of the salon he soon became intimately acquainted, the most eminent of them honouring him with special marks of confidence. Grimm made him one of the editors of his Correspondance ; Marmontel, when con- demned to the Bastille, begged him to carry on his newspaper in his place ; and Morellet looked on him as one of his most trusted friends. To Diderot he was a literary conscience, trying to spur him (through newspaper criticisms) to the use of his best powers, and convinced that if he concen- trated these on worthy objects, instead of frittering them, he might attain any rank he chose. His aim of educating the people through tragedy met with Suard's warm approval an approval of greater moral than aesthetic value, since Diderot's immortality could hardly rest upon his tragedy or his ethics! "It would need a Goethe to talk to him " such in after years was Suard's conclusion about the philosopher who " wrote by intuition before he had thought . . . spreading his light into all minds and his heat into all souls." Holbach, "the first mattre tf hotel of philosophy," was, as we know, already a friend of Suard's. Through him the younger man was speedily admitted to the Thursday suppers of the En- cyclopaedists and their friends, amongst whom THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 61 David Hume was prominent. Here, as we have seen, every creed or the absence of it was fully discussed, and " things were said that would have brought thunderbolts down on the house a hundred times, if thunderbolts fell for such matters." Every fine shade of agnosticism was represented by the guests, but few amongst them attained more than "a faint possible theism." The majority, led by Grimm, got no farther than a code of polite manners towards other religions, which they called tolerance, and set up as a belief competent for human needs. Yet Marmontel declares that " God, virtue, and the holy laws of natural morality " were never so much as doubted at their table, and they greatly resented the charge of atheism which was brought against them. There was no real contradiction in all this ; so infatuated were they about the lay-figure they had tricked out in sublime clothes, that they almost be- came, so to speak, the Don Quixotes of scepticism, and took the wooden doll for a living presence. At any rate, their faith in politeness bore one good result. During all their discussions, they never quarrelled. Colle" and Crdbillon, the " joyous madcaps" who served them as jesters, kept up an unceasing fire of bel-esprit which never degenerated into personalities. 62 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS He found Suard readier than Hume to take his counsels, and constituted himself the young man's patron, offering him generous help in money, which Suard, however, refused. He stood in no actual need of it, for he was making enough for his modest needs. Early in his career he met the Abbe Arnaud, an eager lover of music and the arts. They united not only their purses and households, taking up their abode together, but also their literary aims. Together they started a newspaper which made a special object of ac- quainting the French with the English authors, for whom Suard felt the strongest affinity. It was in this periodical and in their translation that Young's Night Thoughts first appeared in France, where it was to enjoy such an astonishing vogue. The success and reputation of the editors increased. But Suard did not rest content with the pursuit of fame alone. Like all his companions, he was ready to embark on a connection with a literary lady. He fell in love with Madame Krlidner, a woman of fascinating beauty and mystic ten- dencies, famous for " the lightness of her ethereal grace " and her genius for dancing. Her " shawl dance," described by Madame de Stael in Delphine, was a poem in motion, her blue THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 63 scarf and her golden hair twining in and out of each other in magic curves. To the marriage- tie she naturally paid no attention, having, luckily for herself, made an unhappy union at sixteen, with an affectionate ambassador, who could not see his way to live with her. She found others to take his place, but, anxious for success in society as well as in love, she set her heart upon having a salon in Paris. Emu- lating Madame de Stael, not only did she lose her sleep from jealousy of her social victories, but also wrote a novel, Vattrie, which had a striking success. As the charms of first youth waned, the New Jerusalem began to appear an attractive resid- ence to her. Having fallen under the influ- ence of Jung Stilling, the Swedenborgian, who developed the exalted side of her nature, she now received her guests in the flowing robes of a priestess. Her exaltation was quite as sincere as her frivolity. She became subject to trances and raptures, and in 1806 was converted by a shoemaker to a kind of Moravianism. After this, she gave herself up to proselytising and open-air preaching all over Germany and Switzerland, often pursued by the police, and always spurred by great devotion and great egoism. Essentially 64 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS the galante of religion, she carried on spiritual flirtations at the same time as she wrestled in earnest prayer, spent herself in spreading her faith, and lavished large sums upon the poor, collected from her converts. So much money did she obtain, that the fathers and husbands of Bale forbade their wives and daughters to give any more to a lady so vague and so potent. At last she returned to Paris, where she re- sumed her salon. It acquired a special character as the centre of the fashionable Illumines, who frequented it in evening dress. Prayers were held before conversation began. Madame Krlidner once had, it is said, to beg Madame Re*camier not to come to these soirtes, as her beauty proved too disturbing to the devotions of her guests, who, still on their knees, immediately turned round to stare at her. It was about this time that Madame Krtidner began to prophesy Napoleon figuring as the Black and the Czar Alexander as the White Angel of her visions. It was the crowning stroke of her faith that the latter, perhaps aided by her flattering sayings, became her most submissive convert. It was not difficult for her to obtain complete ascend- ancy over a nature as impressionable as it was ambitious, and as pleasure-loving as it was super- THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 65 stitious. She put her saintly finger into very mundane pies ; and it was in her rooms that the Holy Alliance between him and Prussia was signed, his draft still bearing some words in her hand- writing. Towards the end of her life, she went to St. Petersburg, followed by three thousand poor, but discovered that the Czar had grown cold, and would prefer her departure. Driven by the Spirit, she determined to build for herself a penitentiary (to be called "La Porte du Ciel ") on a peak in the Caucasus ; this she found impractic- able, but, with undaunted courage and resources, resolved upon a mission to Crim-Tartary. Escorted by a train of devotees which was sprinkled with aristocrats, she proceeded thither, mounted upon an ass, in the costume of the Virgin Mary; whilst her daughter and son-in-law followed her, dressed as Mary Magdalen and St. George. When they arrived, she preached to the Crim-Tartars in French a language of which they did not under- stand a word, though this was a fact which did not abate her fervour. Her body, however, over- came even her activity ; her sufferings compelled her to give up work, and she died of cancer in 1824. " Le ciel c'est moi " (to change the words of the Great Monarch) was her attitude towards herself 5 66 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS an assumption bound to lead a frail mortal into dangerous quibbles. She sincerely believed in herself, but she had miraculous powers of self- deception, and dazzled herself by her own crude generosity and convincing fervour. Her ascend- ancy over Suard was not of long duration. In about 1766 he met Ame'lie Panckoucke, the sister and ward of a friend of his, a printer. She was ten years younger than himself, as beautiful as most young ladies of that age, and as impres- sionable and innocent as it is possible to be. They fell in love such true love that it could not have run smooth. Poverty was not the only objection. Panckoucke, the brother, though himself a freethinker, was bound by his own in- terests to support Freron, the leader of the Anti- Encyclopaedists. He refused to have anything to say to a guest of Helve*tius and Holbach. For a long time he was obdurate. But Amelie was growing thin and ill, and he was a devoted brother. More than this, Holbach used influence, and Buffon interceded in person. It was his representations that at length moved Panckoucke to consent and determined Suard's fate. The betrothal was allowed, the lovers were in rapture, and Panckoucke not only gave his blessing, but, what was still more important, an excellent THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 67 trousseau of well-fitting dresses, much dwelt on by the bride. There was now but one more person's consent to gain, more important even than the brother's. Madame Kriidner was a tyrant whose golden chains were not as heavy as they were tight. Suard could not face her, but the amiable Neckers undertook the task of breaking the news and gaining her permission. They performed the latter feat by a cunning appeal to her vanity, per- suading her that this sacrifice would be the only consolation which befitted her for the loss of the man she loved. As the lovers despised any consideration of poverty, all obstacles were now removed. In 1767 they were married, and lived happily for some time afterwards. CHAPTER II THE Suards did not actually begin with love in a cottage, but they started in very small apartments, on the modest income of ^125 a year, with rent and firing free, and no other help excepting the contribution of the Abbe* Arnaud, who continued to live under their roof. But there was one household-goddess whom he had omitted to conciliate before marriage, and who now visited her wrath upon him. This was Madame Geoffrin, whom he had never consulted about this important step, and who looked upon an imprudent marriage as a capital offence. She refused to see him for two years, after which time Madame Necker arranged that she should meet the young wife at her house. Little Ame'lie trembled, but was encouraged by Madame Geoffrin's "look of reason mixed with kindness." The formidable lady was conquered in spite of 68 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 69 herself, embraced Ame'lie, and told her husband that even without a dowry she was worth more than the most peaceful celibacy or the richest match. This was a great admission from one whose motto for matrimony (a motto which she had enforced upon Suard) was Bacon's : "A wife and children are hostages to fortune." The day after the interview she sent a ^handsome dress to Madame Suard, and ever afterwards remained the constant friend and patroness of the "Little Household," as the Suards' establishment was soon named. The Neckers also received the young couple with cordiality, and Madame Suard was the only lady allowed on their intimate Tuesday evenings ; a privilege granted her, we hear, on account of her gratitude and humility. Their social life in the best circles of Paris, compelled careful husbandry of their slight re- sources. They had help, however. Their grand friends lent them carriages and horses, and sent them presents of game ; and the little lady contrived to combine economy with fashion by never making her full toilette till eight or nine o'clock, on the nights that she went out. Presently they started their own " evenings" twice a week. They gave their guests supper 70 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS only, whilst their salon was distinguished from others by its artistic prestige. But Amelie's life was not altogether social. Tronchet, the ladies' doctor then in vogue (the successor of Madame de Pompadour's Quesnay), was strict in enjoining daily exercise upon her as a means of keeping off " the vapours." Every morning she used to walk in the gardens of the Tuileries or Luxembourg, with Pope, Richardson, or Robertson as a study. She shared her husband's enthusiasm for English literature, and they, together with the Abbe Arnaud, took in English papers, and not only knew more about English affairs than the Cabinet Ministers, but made themselves publicly useful by their know- ledge. Suard and Raynal started a French history of universal travel, to appear simultane- ously with an English volume of the same kind. It was his anxiety to return the visits of Hume and Walpole which, shortly after this, drew Suard to England. The day he arrived in London, there was a riot in favour of Wilkes, who had just been expelled from the House of Commons. The mob forced Suard to dismount and shout, " Vive John Wilkes ! Vive la Liberte ! " with the rest, a welcome which slightly alarmed the serene Frenchman, still ignorant of liberty and revolution. THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 71 But next day the ferment had subsided, and the town was calm ; he paid his visits to celebrities, and obtained Robertson's permission to translate his Charles V. The proofs were sent him as they were printed, and his translation was not only admired by Robertson, but also by Gibbon, Hume, and Walpole. It was Suard's love of reasoned freedom which found such satisfaction in England. The same quality attracted Condorcet to him Condorcet, the high-minded, gentle geometrician of abnormal energies ; the schemer for the world, born to be Prime Minister of Utopia ; the sanguine orator- philosopher, with no feeling smaller than his love for humanity. He cared for few people, and Turgot, d'Alembert, the Suards, and the Duchesse d'Enville were his only friends. Somewhat later he came to live with the Suards, and greatly influenced Amelie's mind by his ideas. He had a high opinion of her ; " I would give the half of my geometry," he exclaimed, " for the gift Madame Suard possesses without knowing it. She grows eloquent directly she is moved directly anybody wounds either her heart or her taste." Many friends were added to their circle. It was now that Suard became intimate with Francois de Pange, supposed to be like him in appearance 72 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS and manner. A constitutional critic of govern- ment, he may fitly be termed the precursor of Alexis de Tocqueville. We shall meet him again later as the cousin of Pauline de Montmorin, whom he brought some years afterwards to the Suards' salon, where she became prominent. " Monsieur Suard and I " (writes Amdlie) " saw Madame de Beaumont at Madame de StaeTs. She told us she would like to accompany our cousin to our soirees ; she enjoyed them greatly, and we thought her as witty as she was amiable." The friendship seems to have progressed, for it is at the Suards' that the Minister Montmorin finds his daughter one day when he comes to Paris to seek her ; whilst de Pange sought Suard's companionship more and more, and became a daily guest on their hearth as well as in their salon. Another figure there was Chamfort, the corus- cating pessimist and cynical maxim-writer, who ended by committing suicide after the Revolution. He alone, of all Suard's friends, was detested by his idealistic hostess for his sharp eye and sharper tongue, both busy with the vices of others. It is a relief to turn from him to Madame Tesse, an actively virtuous lady, of considerable wits. After the smallpox, when her friends were con- THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 73 doling with her on her altered appearance, she exclaimed with spirit, " Has my mind also had the smallpox ? " and changed the conversation. She possessed influence at Court, and procured for Suard and 1'Abbe* Arnaud the editorship of the Gazette de France and a solid salary. Then there were their country friends whom they visited in the summer : Watelet, the versa- tile Farmer-general, Acaddmicien, and gardener, and Madame Lecomte, who had left her husband to live with him at Moulin- Joli ; Saint Lambert ("an indefatigable host to those he liked") and Madame d'Houdetot, whose life together at Sanois, in the valley of Montmorency, constituted an idyll almost as innocent as it was improper. They kept to each other faithfully for forty years, Madame Lecomte and Watelet for almost as long. "It was the eighteenth century/' Chateaubriand writes of them, . . . "married in its own way. You have only to persist in life, and illegalities become legal. People begin to feel an infinite respect for immorality, because it has gone on and time has adorned it with wrinkles." There could have been little difficulty in re- maining constant to Madame d'Houdetot, who had been the friend of Rousseau and the original of his "Julie." The queen of grace and gay sensi- 74 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS bility, she possessed the poet's temperament, and was still able in her old age to use it in praise of love. " Et I'amour me console ; Rien ne pourra me consoler de lui," she sang at eighty ; whilst twenty years later " I am French ! " she exclaimed. " I am a hundred years old, and I cannot reproach myself with ever having made the smallest pleasure seem absurd." She was misquoting Fontenelle, who spoke these words at the close of his life, but used the word virtue where she substituted pleasiire, and would have probably been delighted with their new ap- plication. Her conversation, which "had more sallies than it had continuity," was so charming as to make her hearers forget the defects of her personal appearance. "She squinted horribly, and her features were strongly marked and un- pleasing. . . . Good heavens ! how well a pretty face would suit that mind!" writes Madame Suard. She goes on to describe how Madame d'Houdetot never changed an opinion or a taste which she had once formed, either as to its sub- stance or its expression. It was perhaps this fixity which regulated the affections of an other- wise volatile nature, and made her as faithful a friend as she was a lover. She never lost her THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 75 power of enchanting all who approached her, from Jean Jacques Rousseau in the early days of her career, to Madame Remusat in later days, when Napoleon's Court had routed the old traditions. At the close of her life she still kept every tender habit of old days, and never retired to bed without tapping her slipper three times on the floor as a good - nighr greeting to Saint Lambert. In order to have her as a neighbour, and en- couraged by his improved circumstances, Suard sold his library and bought a small country-house, Fontenai-sur- Roses, for his wife. It was near Sanois and within easy reach of Paris. To this cosy hermitage she retired during the warm weather, whilst he remained in Paris, " to give his friends dinner off soup and fruit," and visited his Ame"lie once if not twice every day. He re- mained with her all Sunday, when they kept open house for their country neighbours and occasional visitors from town. Talleyrand, still on the verge of fame, was amongst the number ; Lafayette also, full of latent power and loyalty. In Paris, too, the Suards seem to have moved to better quarters. They had a house in the Rue Royale which owned at any rate one distinction, that of being next door to the hotel of Madame 76 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS de Coislin. This lady, the cousin of Madame de Chateauroux, was an epitome of the old traditions. What heart she possessed still clung to the Court of Louis XV., whose mistress she is said to have been, though she never confessed as much. She admitted that she had been passionately loved, but said she had treated her royal lover with extreme severity. " I have seen him at my feet," she used to say. "He had charming eyes, and his language was seductive. One day he offered to give me a costume made of china, like Madame de Pompadour's." This strange token of love, which was actually pre- sented to her, afterwards fell into the hands of George IV., who bestowed it upon Lady Cun- ningham. Madame de Coislin indulged in no luxury that was not given her. A fastidious miser, parsimony formed a convenient article of her aristocratic creed. In her time, she said, it was not considered good manners for a lady to pay her doctor's bill ; and as for fine linen, she condemned it as the badge of a par- venue. " We ladies of the Court," she exclaimed in her old age, " never had more than two chemises ; they were renewed when they were worn out; we always wore silk, and did not look like grisettes, as young ladies do now- THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 77 a-days." As might be expected, she did not approve of guests ; on rare occasions she invited somebody to dinner, but inveighed the whole time against coffee, declaring that nobody liked it, and that it only prolonged the repast. Away from home, she was no more generous. When she travelled, her nephew used to precede her and order an excellent meal v at the inn, but on her arrival she countermanded it, and dined off half a pound of cherries. Great was her fury when she found that it was impossible to miti- gate the hotel bill, which never failed to include the price of her uneaten dinner. At once believing and unbelieving, her morals were governed by an I lluminisme of her own. Faith, as a quality, she rather despised. Madame Kriidner once said to her, " Do you ever feel a mysterious confessor within your- self?" " Madame," replied Madame de Coislin, " I never felt any mysterious confessor within myself. I only know my own confessor within his own confessional ; " after which repartee the two ladies never met again. She certainly kept a sharper eye upon the fashions than upon her creed, and invented the chignon flottant, a coiffure opposed by Marie Leczinska as a dangerous innovation, Chateaubriand knew her 78 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS at the end of her life, and has left us a picture of her : " Madame de Coislin was a woman of the finest manners," he writes; " though she was close upon eighty, her proud, dominating eyes expressed mind and irony. She was quite illiterate, and used to boast of the fact. She had passed through the Voltairean age without suspecting it ; if she had any notion of it at all, it was as a time of bourgeois aridness. It was not that she ever spoke of her birth ; she was too well-bred to fall into such an absurdity ; she knew very well how to meet insignificant people without coming down from her pedestal ; but then she was the daughter of the first Marquis of France." She received Chateaubriand in her bedroom, which was adorned by two sea-pieces of Vernet's, given her by Louis le Bien-Aime". She never rose till two from her big bed, with its green damask curtains, where she lay propped up by pillows, long diamond earrings hanging from her ears, and falling upon her ''silk night- gown sown with tobacco," such as was worn in the days of the Fronde; around her were scattered envelopes already written upon by her friends, on which, to save note-paper, she con- THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 79 ducted her correspondence. Her only com- panion was a snarling lap-dog, who occasionally put his head from the sheets and barked angrily. It was the finishing touch to her history that when she died, her sister and brother-in law were found at the table in the room where her body was still lying, counting out her money, which they had found hidden in a hollow panel. Such a lady was bound to be an unpleasant neighbour to the humble Suards. Carlyle was not the first person to find out that the possession of poultry makes bad neighbours. Madame Suard had a cock which annoyed Madame de Coislin. " Cut your cock's neck, Madame," she wrote to Madame Suard. " Madame," replied the latter, " I have the honour to tell you that I shall not cut my cock's neck." " Oh, my dear, what times we live in ! " cried the outraged Madame de Coislin to a friend. "It is actually the daughter of Panckoucke who has done this, the wife of that member of the Acactimie, don't you know ? " This description of Suard referred to the fact that, in 1772, he was received into the Acadtmie, at the same time as Delille. The King had at first refused to consider either of their claims, because he thought they were Encyclopaedists, but on better information, he revoked this decision, 8o THE STORY OF TWO SALONS and Suard made his first Oration : a Vindication of Philosophical Methods. He introduced a portrait of Voltaire, who was not slow to acknow- ledge it in the most flattering manner. " The day of your reception," he wrote, "is a great epoch. There is so short an interval between the condemnation of Fe*nelon by decree and your oration, that I am still quite stupefied by your courage. True, it is accompanied by great wisdom. You are covered by the shield of Minerva, even whilst you strike out to right and left with the sword of Mars. . . . Farewell, sir. We will have no Gothic formula of 'your very,' etc. etc. I am too much your debtor," etc. etc. The Suards' relations with Voltaire by no means stopped here. Ever since early girlhood, the fervent Ame'lie had worshipped him from afar. Three years after the arrival of this letter, she was seized by a longing to take her courage into both hands and visit him at Ferney. Her husband gave his consent, though work prevented him from accompanying her, and in June 1775 she set out on her voyage, escorted by her devoted brother. She found the great man alone with his house-mates his niece, Madame Denis, and a THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 81 young girl, " always laughing at everything," whom he called " Fifteen -years -old." He lavished kindness upon them, keeping up the most demonstrative habits with them, as indeed he did with most women. Into this household entered our hero-worshipping little lady, incense in hand. She lost no time in reporting her im- pressions to her husband, and continued to do so daily, in the following letters. We have thought better to give them in sequence and without comment, that they may convey a vivid picture of her experiences even though our eyes may be occasionally irritated by the fumes of incense which she casts about him. We must, however, remember that diffuse adulation was the fashion of that day ; not only Evelina and her lover, but Clarissa and Harriet Byron would have wept tears of mortification over a letter that possessed no hyperbolic invocations. The language in which a moth admires a star, framed upon this scale, must never excite surprise. " FERNEY, /#// 1775. " I have at last reached the goal of my desires and of my journey : I have seen M. de Voltaire! The transports of St. Theresa could never have surpassed those which the sight of 82 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS the great man made me feel. It seemed to me that I was in the presence of a god ; but of a god whom I had long loved and adored, to whom it was at last granted me to show all my gratitude and love. If his genius had not already produced this illusion in me, his face alone would have done so. It is impossible to describe the fire of his eyes and all the other graces of his countenance and what an enchanting smile ! There is not one wrinkle which is not an adorn- ment. Ah, how amazed I was, when, instead of the decrepit face I expected, there appeared this physiognomy full of fire and expression ; when, instead of a stooping old man, I beheld a straight, upright figure of noble but easy manners. And what tone ! What politeness ! A politeness which, like his genius, belongs to him alone. My heart beat violently when I entered the courtyard of his chateau. Having at last attained the long- wished-for moment, I should have liked to put off a happiness which I always included in my most fervent prayers, and I was almost relieved when Madame Denis told us he had gone for a walk. He soon appeared, exclaiming, ' Where is this lady? Where is she? Hers is the soul I come to seek ! ' Then, as I advanced ' They write to me, Madame, that you are all soul.* THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 83 * That soul, sir,' I replied, 'is brimful of you, and has long sighed for the joy of approaching yours.' ... At this moment there were a dozen persons in the drawing-room: M. Poissonier had just arrived ; he had not yet seen M. de Voltaire ; but at once sat down by him, and set to work to talk about himself. M. de Voltaire told him that he (M. Poissonier) had done a great service to humanity by finding a way to take away the salt from sea- water. ' Oh, sir/ he replied, ' I have conferred a much greater benefit upon it since then ! I was made for discoveries, and I have now found the means of preserving meat for years without salting it!' It seemed as if he had come to Ferney to make himself admired, and not to do homage to M. de Voltaire. How small I thought him ! What a miserable thing is vain mediocrity by the side of modest and indulgent genius ! For M. de Voltaire seemed to listen to him with indulgence. As for me, I was exasperated ! I strained my ears so as to lose no word which fell from the lips of the great man, who said a thousand amiable and witty things with that easy grace which lends such charm to all his writings, though its rapid flash strikes one even more in conversation. Without any eagerness to speak 84 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS himself, he listens to everybody with an attention more flattering, perhaps, than any he has gained for his own talk. "His niece said a few words ; his eyes full of indulgence were fixed upon her, and he smiled most amiably. As soon as M. Poissonier had spoken enough of himself, he was quite willing to give up his place. Urged by a lively desire, by a sort of passion which surmounted my shy- ness, I went to take possession of it. I had been rather encouraged by something M. de Voltaire had said of me. I had never before experienced such sensations. Here was a feeling fed for fifteen years, which, for the first time, I could declare to him who was its object. I expressed it with all the disorder which so great a happiness inspires. He seemed to enjoy it. From time to time he stemmed the torrent by kind words. ' You are spoiling me ! ' ' You want to turn my head ! ' And when he could talk to me about all his friends, it was with the greatest interest that he did so. He talked much of you and his gratitude for your kindness. He spoke much too of M. de Turgot. ' He has,' he said, ' three terrible things against him the financiers, the scamps, and the gout.' I said they were counterbalanced by his virtues, his courage, THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 85 and the esteem of the King. ' But, Madame, I hear you are one of his enemies.' "'I, sir? what an injustice! that would make me an enemy of the public weal. Cannot I reconcile my respect for M. Turgot with that which I owe to M. Necker?' " ' Madame, if you understand his book, that does you great credit. As for me, I should be very glad to have it translated for me. It is,' he added gaily, 'a conundrum of four hundred pages. M. Necker came and asked the public riddles, like the Queen of Sheba who puzzled Solomon, in old days.' " I was embarrassed by this mocking tone about one whom I have so much reason to love and respect, and I answered M. de Voltaire that I was sure he would easily find the answer to the riddles. When I left the drawing-room, he begged me to look upon his house as mine, and he w r ent into his room. I think whilst he was there he finished reading the letters from my friends in which I am so well treated ; for shortly afterwards he came back and joined me in his garden. For a long while I walked alone with him. I only talked of what could console him for the injustice of men, the bitterness of which I saw he still felt. ' Ah ! ' I said to him, ' if you could 86 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS only hear the acclamations of public assemblies when your name is mentioned, how pleased you would be at our gratitude and love ! Would that I had the power of a god to transport you for one moment thither ! ' 'I am there ! I am there ! ' he cried ' I am enjoying it all with you ; I no longer regret anything!' Before leaving him, I thanked him for his kindest reception, which repaid me with interest for the two hundred leagues I had just travelled to see him. He would not believe that I had left you and my friends, only to pay him a visit." Next morning the whole party goes to kiss him in bed, Madame Suard having retired early the night before, that she might not lose the oppor- tunity of seeing " our amiable patriarch in his best moments of good humour." " I sat down," she continues, " by the side of his bed, which was of the greatest simplicity and the most perfect cleanliness. He was sitting up as straight and firm as a young man of twenty ; he had on a beautiful white satin waistcoat and a nightcap tied with a spotless ribbon. The only writing-table he has in his bed, where he always works, is a chessboard. His room struck me by the order which reigned there ; it is not like yours, with the books pell-mell and great heaps of THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 87 papers ; he knows where everything is, and could at once find the papers relating to M. de G.'s case. Close by his bed is the portrait of Madame de Chatelet, of whom he keeps the tenderest memory. But inside his bed he has two engravings of the Galas family." M. Galas, a Protestant, had been broken on the wheel, because, as his st>n had been found dead, some fanatical Catholic chose, without a shadow of evidence, to say that his father had killed him to prevent him from turning Papist : Galas' widow and children were put to the torture, and fled for protection to Voltaire, who nobly provided for them at Ferney. Madame Suard, not recognising the picture of the mother and children embracing the condemned man, re- proached Voltaire with its sadness. " * Ah, Madame, for eleven years I have been unceasingly occupied with that unfortunate family and that of the Sirvens ' (another instance of religious persecution), 'and during all that time, Madame, I reproached myself with the slightest smile that escaped me, as if it were a crime.'" Here follows a rhapsody upon his services to humanity. "He told me," she continues, "that the triumph of enlightenment was far from being assured ; he spoke of the arbitrariness of man's 88 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS destiny and of the prejudices which had hitherto surrounded his childhood. 'The nurse,' he said, * leaves a mark like this,' and he showed me the whole length of his arm ; ' and reason, when it follows her, only leaves one no longer than my finger. No, Madame, we ought to fear all things from a man brought up by a fanatic.' This topic led him to dwell on the absurdity of the cause which had produced such long and flagrant evils ; he went over a portion of Jesus Christ's life, made merry over his miracles, and became enraged over his fanaticism. I defended him as one of the philosophers I loved best; I told him that I only acknowledged such of Christ's qualities as har- monised with the rest of his life : his love for he weak and unhappy ; those words which more than once he spoke to women, and which are either of the sublimest philosophy or the most touching- indulgence. * Oh yes,' he replied, with a glance and a smile of the most amiable malice. 'As for you women, he treated you so well that when you take up his defence, it is only what you owe him.'" They concluded by talking of d'Alembert ; of La Harpe, in whom Voltaire placed all his hopes for the drama ; of Saint Lambert, " at whose table reason, heart, and appetite were equally THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 89 satisfied"; and of Condorcet, whom Voltaire regarded as the light of philosophy, comparable to himself in zeal for humanity and in hatred of fanaticism or oppression. He earnestly bids her keep Condorcet's friendship. "Oh, sir," she answers, "the friendship of my good Condorcet is of greater price to me than any treasure, and I would not sacrifice it for" the empire of the universe." Coming events do not always cast their shadows before them. A time was to arrive when these fervent words were found of no other use than to add themselves to the ironies of life. " When tired by long work, he enters his drawing-room," continues the narrative, "he lends himself to the subject in hand, without attempt- ing to direct the conversation, giving himself up either to general topics or to oneself with the greatest simplicity. But if some piece of news comes from Paris, if he hears of an interesting event, his mind instantly fastens on it with undivided attention. The evening of my arrival, he heard that the Abbe" de Lignon had just been put in the Bastille, and that all his papers had been seized. He shed tears over the poor man's misfortune, and spoke with the keenest indignation 90 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS of this act of despotism. It is this lively sensi- bility, so easily moved, which makes him instantly identify himself with any victim he may hear of, so that he may lend him all the support of his genius. And his genius is, in reality, the offspring of his sensibility, for I believe with Vauvenargues, that ' genius comes from agreement and harmony between soul and intellect." They soon descend from these high regions of philanthropy to the humbler domain of domestic happiness. She talks about Suard, the choice of her heart, and shows Voltaire his portrait. " There is but one destiny, sir, which could have weighed in my heart against the joy of being M. Suard's wife," cries the combustible little lady. " I mean that of being your niece, and devoting my whole life to you." "Ah, my dear child," retorts the patriarch, " I should have joined your hands ; I should have given you my blessing!" "He was superb to-day," she runs on. "When I appeared, Madame de Luchet said to me, ' M. de Voltaire, who knows, Madame, that you think him very handsome in full dress, has to-day put on his wig and his best dressing- gown.' " They proceeded (presumably not in this costume) to drive in his coach to the woods, she kissing his hand all the way, in spite of the THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 91 presence of a Russian gentleman, who never ceases to congratulate her on her youth and beauty. The highly scented atmosphere of the carosse grows indeed rather stifling. It is a relief when Voltaire and the Russian begin to talk of the Empress Catherine, "who has more mind and energy than any sovereign in Europe." The puzzle of the life at Ferney is to find out when they had time for sleep. Conversation flowed, a brilliant and artificially lighted torrent, which never seemed to exhaust any member of the circle. Madame Suard probably never slept a wink the whole time she was there, for she rose at six, so that she might visit him at eight, spend- ing, we may suppose, at least an hour in prayer that she might say the right thing. It is to her honour that she thought more of getting her mind ready than her person. She never knew till the end of her visit that he liked to see women in fine clothes, and did not appear well dressed till her last morning at Ferney. His mood was often changed, even during her short stay his mercurial temper, doubtless, lend- ing him much of his magic. One day he was merry and serene ; another, sad and tired. On such occasions, Madame Denis infuriated our breathless acolyte by ignoring his symptoms and 92 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS treating him as if he were a captious child. " Yesterday I was a philosopher, to-day I am a rascal ! " he cries. But whatever his disposition, adds Madame Suard, " there could never be the least vacuum in his life," even had his congregation allowed him the chance of any. Her brother, she tells us, next arrived to see him, and had hardly been there an instant when he set off reciting Voltaire's favourite amongst his own works La Pucelle. ' ' H e only interrupted (though to us the interruption seems no light one) by say- ing, ' But that is not the way to recite verse ! ' and proceeded to show the unabashed and enrap- tured Panckoucke how to declaim, his tones giving a new cadence and harmony to the lines." " He spoke of Ferney," she writes another day, "which he has populated, which owes its existence to him. He congratulated himself upon it. I remembered these lines, and quoted them to him : ' I have done a little good that is my finest work/ He was told that if ever his works were lost, he would find them again quite whole in my head. 'Then they will be revised,' he said, with inimitable grace and (as he had given me his hand, which I was kissing) 'Just look,' he exclaimed, kissing mine, 'what I allow her to do ! It is becaiise it is so sweet;,' " THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 93 This effusion over, they returned to literary themes : " As for Condorcet's Praise of Pascal, he told me that he thought it so beautiful that it terrified him. ' What do you mean, sir ? ' I asked. ' Yes, Madame, if Pascal was such a great man, then all of us are great fools for not thinking like him. M. Condorcet will do us a great wrong if he publishes this book just as he sent it to me. That Racine,' he added, 'was a good Christian is not extraordinary. He was a poet, a man of imagination. But Pascal was a reasoner, and it is impossible to use reasoning against our side. After all, he was only a diseased enthusiast, and had perhaps as little good faith as his antagon- ists.' I did not care to try and prove to him that a great man could also be a good Christian. I preferred to go on hearing him. He told us about his brother the Jansenist, who had such a fine zeal for martyrdom that he said one day to a friend (who thought like himself, but would never allow any exposure in the cause of perfection), ' Confound you ! If you don't wish to be hanged yourself, at any rate don't take away the taste for it from other folk.' After having spent a delightful hour, I feared I had abused his kindness. All the happiness I enjoy in seeing and hearing him always vanishes before my fear 94 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS of tiring him. Even if the interest he inspires in me did not force me to watch all his movements and spare him the slightest sense of fatigue, I should still do so from vanity ; for I had been told he had a way of showing his exhaustion which I was always careful to forestall. He led me back to the door of his room, in spite of all my entreaties. When we got there, I said to him, ' Sir, I am soon about to start on a long journey. I entreat you to give me your blessing. I shall look upon it as a surer amulet against all dangers than that of our Holy Father.' He smiled with infinite grace, and, leaning against his study door, he gave me a look at once soft and penetrating, and seemed embarrassed as to what he ought to do. At last he said to me, * But I can't bless you with my three fingers ; I would rather put my two arms round your neck ' and then he embraced me. He no longer appears at table, and he does not dine ; he remains in bed nearly all day ; works there till eight o'clock ; then he asks for supper, and for three months he has supped on nothing but scrambled eggs, though there is always a good fowl ready, in case he should have a fancy for it. All the villagers who pass Ferney also find a dinner ready for them, and twenty-four sols for travelling money. Fare- THE STORY OF TWO SALONS 95 well, dear husband. I can only talk of the great man, for only he interests me here. . . . You may be jealous if you like, but it is a fact that I have a deep passion for him." She told Voltaire that she had written to inform her husband that she had fallen in love, an announcement which Suard no doubt bore with as great equanimity as he would have shown at the final parting between his wife and her idol. Voltaire was in bed. She pressed him to her breast. " You found me dying," he said, "but my heart will always be yours." She wept ; no doubt he followed suit. The only consolation for either was the thought of the autumn, when he begged her to return with Suard, Condorcet, and d'Alembert a combination which unfortun- ately never came off. The great event was over. She had come, she had seen, she had been conquered. There was nothing for it but to return to her Parisian hearth and fall back into her old habits. We cannot but sympathise with the sense of flatness which must have attacked her on her homeward journey. But enthusiasm happily finds fuel for itself; a great man's words are a possession for life ; and Suard was awaiting her at home, as eager to hear as she was to tell. 96 THE STORY OF TWO SALONS When Voltaire came to Paris, some years later, she saw him again on three separate occa- sions, and her husband had much of his com- panionship. It was for the last time. Not long afterwards he died, leaving, at least in one heart, a perfect memory and an unspotted ideal. CHAPTER III " A LL Paris," Madame Necker writes to