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 MADAME DE STAEL. 
 
 VOL. I,
 
 I.OSrOX ! PRIXTKI) BY 
 
 sroTTisnooDK AXD lO., nkiv-stuket squaeis 
 
 AND PAULIA51KXT STRKKT
 
 ^■' Jii
 
 MADAME DE STAEL 
 
 A STUDY 
 
 OF 
 
 HEE LIFE AND TIMES: 
 
 THE FIRST REVOLUTION and THE FIRST EMPIRE. 
 
 By A. STEVENS, LL.D. 
 
 /! 
 
 IN TWO V O L U M E 8. — V L. I 
 
 WITH PORTRAITS. 
 
 LONDON : 
 JOHN MUKEAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 
 
 1881. 
 
 AU rights vesfrved. 
 
 LK2-ii\l^\
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 I HAVE NOT been able to find, in any language, 
 anything like an adequate biography of Madame 
 de Stael — a woman who, more than any other, 
 (not excepting Madame Eoland) represents her 
 epoch, and that the epoch of the modern history 
 of Europe. The best of French critics, Sainte- 
 Beuve, has accorded to her this pre-eminence. 
 ' How incomplete,' exclaims Geffroy (Eevue des 
 Deux Mondes, tome vi. 1856), ' are the biographies 
 of Madame de Stael ! ' Her gifted cousin, Madame 
 Necker de Saussure, prepared for the first edition 
 of her collected works (CEuvres Completes de 
 Madame de Stael, 17 vols. Paris, 1820-21) a 
 ' Notice ' on her ' Character and Writinijs ' which 
 is the best memoir of her yet given to the world ; 
 nearly all tlie facts of her early life, recorded by 
 other writers, are borrowed from it ; yet, of it;; 
 more than three hundred and seventy pages, seven- 
 eifrhths are devoted to general remarks on her
 
 [6] Preface. 
 
 (^luiracter and critical remarks on her works. Slie 
 complains of the paucity of lier data, the difficulty 
 of constructing a connected history of her friend. 
 The writings of Madame de Stael, particularly her 
 ' Ten Years of Exile,' her ' Considerations ' on the 
 French Eevolution, and her sketch of her father 
 introductory to his 'Manuscripts ' (a sketch which 
 Benjamin Constant pronounced lier best self-reve- 
 lation), are replete with allusions to lier own life ; 
 but these are mostly detached and vague. The 
 superabundant 'Memoirs' of her times, and the 
 histories of the French Eevolution, of the Litera- 
 ture, and of the Society of tlie epoch, abound in 
 similar allusions, but they seem equally intractable 
 to any attempt to reduce tliem to the correlation 
 and consistence requisite for a biography of the 
 usual form. Hence, probably, it is that, with 
 almost innumerable biographical sketches, we have 
 as yet no real biography of tliis greatest of literary 
 women, greatest by the events of her life, if not by 
 lier literary productions. 
 
 Besides tlie elaborate ' Notice,' by Madame 
 Necker de Saussure, Sainte-Beuve lias given us 
 (Portraits et Critiques Litteraires, 3 vols., Paris,- 
 1841) a sketcli of more tlian a luiudred and twenty 
 pages; Fr. Schlosser, a vohime on ]\hidaine de 
 Stael et Madame Roland (Frankfurt, 1830) ; Lydia 
 Marin Cliild, n work with the same title (Auburn,
 
 Preface. [7] 
 
 Me., 1861) ; Maria Norris, a Life and Times of 
 , Madame de Stael (London, 1843) ; Cousin (d'Avalon) 
 'Staelliana' (Paris, 1820) ; Hortense AUart, ' Lettres 
 sur les QEiivres de Madame de Stael' (Paris, 1824) ; 
 Henri Baudrillart, an ' Eloge de Madame de Stael ' 
 (Paris, 1850), crowned by the French Academy. 
 Philarete Chasles has made out an excellent 
 resume of lier life and writings in the ' Nouvelle 
 Biographic Generale,' and tlie sketch in the ' Bio- 
 graphie Universelle ' is equally well done. Vinet 
 has estimated, from his religious standpoint, her 
 relations to the moral tendencies of our age ; 
 Villemain, Bonald, Querard, Bauguelet, Chenier, 
 and, indeed, nearly all other authorities on French 
 Literature, have treated of her works and her 
 character. Important pubhcations, affording new 
 materials for her history, have been multiplied in 
 our day, but have been little used for the purpose 
 — such as Madame Lenormant's ' Souvenirs and 
 Correspondence of Madame Eecamier,' and ' Tlie 
 Friends of her Youth and her Intimate Corre- 
 spondence ; ' also ' Weimar and Coppet ' (attributed 
 to the same editor), with a considerable introduc- 
 tory sketch and numerous letters ; Taillandier's 
 ' Unpublished Letters of Sismondi,' and his ' Coun- 
 tess of Albany ; ' Geffroy's researches respecting 
 her first husband, the Baron de Stael, and her 
 own correspondence with Gustavus III. of Sweden,
 
 [8] Preface. 
 
 contributed to the ' Keviie des Deux Mondes ' (1856 
 and 1864-65), and others. 
 
 I gratefully acknowledge my obligations to 
 Professor Albert Eilliet de Candolle, of Geneva, a 
 relative of the companion of her childhood, Mdlle. 
 Huber (afterwards Madame Eilliet-Huber), for some 
 original data, and important suggestions ; and 
 most especially to Monsieur Pictet de Sergy (former 
 Councillor of State, and author of a History of 
 Geneva &c.), the only survivor of the personal 
 friends of Necker whom I have been able to dis- 
 cover. His father (Pictet-Diodati) and his father- 
 in-law (Pictet de Eochemont) were among the 
 dearest friends of Madame de Stael, and familiar 
 guests of Coppet. He, himself, was a still more 
 habitual guest there, from the time of Necker 
 down to the death of his disting-uished dau^^hter, 
 and also of the salon of her friend, Madame Ee- 
 camier, at the Abbaye-aux-Bois, Paris. He knew 
 intimately the most noted characters of the Coppet 
 coterie., and has entertained his extreme but i^enial 
 old age by recording his ' Souvenirs ' of them. 
 This unpublished woik, as also his manuscript 
 'Etude' on an important cliapter of the 'Alle- 
 magne,' he has generously placed at my command, 
 together with many other aids. Besides the cita- 
 tions from his manuscripts Avhicli will be found 
 in my pages, I owe to him the right statement and
 
 Preface. [9] 
 
 proper colouring of many facts already given to 
 the public with more or less inaccuracy. 
 
 But with all these abundant ' sources,' it has 
 seemed impossible to make a satisfactory biography 
 except on the plan I have adopted, as implied by 
 my title — A Study of her Life and Times. Viewed 
 en famille, and in her relations to her times — the 
 era of the First Eevolution and the First Empire — 
 its Society, Literature, and Politics — her person- 
 ality appears more distinctly, and in ampler and 
 juster proportions, than it could be presented in any 
 possible narration of the exclusively personal facts 
 of her life. 
 
 She has been known abroad chiefly as the author 
 of a couple of ' fictions,' or by French party criti- 
 cisms and anecdotal disparagements ; but critical 
 students of her works and her times know that 
 she was a profound ethical thinker ; a political 
 leader whose persistent liberal teachings have again 
 ascendency in her country ; a ' Queen of Society ; ' 
 an oracle of the first minds of her age ; the leader, 
 as Lacretelle records, of the spiritualistic reaction 
 against the materialistic philosophy of the Eevolu- 
 tion ; one of the principal promoters, as Lerminier 
 asserts, of the literature and criticism of the Eom- 
 antic school, in France, as contrasted with its old 
 rigorous Classicism ; the first, as Goethe affirmj. 
 effectively to break open the way for the outspread
 
 [lo] Preface, 
 
 of German literature over Western Europe ; the 
 most genuine heroine of the Eevolution ; the most 
 steadfast opponent of the despotism of Bonaparte — 
 ' the last of the Eomans,' as Lamartine says, ' under 
 this Ca2sar, who dared not to destroy her, and could 
 not abase her ; ' the greatest woman of her times, 
 as Macaulay asserted ; the greatest woman in litera- 
 ture, as Byron said ; the greatest woman yet pro- 
 duced by Europe, as Galiffe believed — a superb 
 intellect, and a woman of loving and most lovable 
 soul. 
 
 In a period of illness and retirement, amidst 
 scenes consecrated by her memory, I have found 
 agreeable occupation in attempting to reinstate her 
 in her real historical position ; to restore her salon 
 at Paris, crowded with representative personages 
 of the times ; to revive her brilliant hterary court 
 at Coppet ; to disinter, from old publications, the 
 contemporary and later criticisms on her works ; 
 to trace her travels, and relations with distinguished 
 men and women, in France, Switzerland, Italy, 
 Germany, Eussia, and England ; and, above all, to 
 ascertain her own intellectual (her interior) life. 
 The task is beset with serious critical embarrass- 
 ments, especially tlie liability that the frame may 
 be too large for the picture. I have endeavoured 
 to guard against this error, if not always with suc- 
 cess, 5^et sufficiently, I trust, to obtain the indulgence
 
 Preface. [ii] 
 
 of tlie reader. My work must necessarily be a 
 mosaic ; but tlie mosaic legitimately belongs to 
 Art. 
 
 All writers on the life of Madame de Stael, 
 especially her early hfe, are indebted to her cousin 
 for a large proportion of their data ; and, in any 
 other til an the French language, would naturally 
 reproduce them in a style very like a free render- 
 ing of her narrative ; there is, therefore, among 
 them not a little similarity, of not only facts but of 
 language. This should not, liowever, expose them 
 to the suspicion of mutual plagiarism ; it shows, 
 rather, their common fidelity to the best original 
 authority. In my use of her ' Xotice sur le Carac- 
 tere et les Ecrits de Madame de Stael,' I have not 
 liesitated to follow their example. 
 
 As more than nine-tenths of my data have never 
 before been presented in any consecutive form, I 
 have given abundant marginal verifications, 
 
 Geneva : JuJxj 14, 1880.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION PARENTAGE. 
 
 ^^ PAGK 
 
 Coppet — Chateau de Necker-\3^arne de Stael — The Necker 
 Family — James Necker — The Mother of Madame de Stael — 
 Gibbon's Love — Character and Writings of Madame Necker — 
 Moultou — Bonstetten — Voltaire— Salons of Paris — Madame 
 Necker's Salon — Madame du DefFand — Marmoutel — Madame 
 Necker and Madame Roland ....... 1 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION. 
 
 Madame Necker's System of Edncation — Rousseau's Theory — 
 Anecdotes of the Childhood of Mademoiselle Necker — 
 Bonstetten — Raynal — Mademoiselle Necker in the Salon — 
 Her first Literary Compositions — Grimm's Account of one — 
 Morbid Effect of her Precocity — Necker's Resignation of Office 
 — Tronchin's Prescription for his Daughter — Her Emancipa- 
 tion — Love for her Father — Her Mother — Madame de Genlis 32 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 YOUTH AND EARLY WRITINGS. 
 
 Fust Travels — Visit to Buffbn — His Egotism — His Rule for 
 Style — Fine Sayings of Madame Necker — Journey to Switz-
 
 [ 1 4] Contents of the First Volume. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 erland — Lake Leman — The South of France — Retirement 
 at Marolles — Early Literary Compositions — Dramas — Fictions 
 — Criticism 60 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EARLY WOMANHOOD. 
 
 Necker — His Dauj^hter with him in Exile — Her Account of his 
 Book on the Importance of Religious Opinions — Her Develop- 
 ment — An early Portrait of her — Description of her in her 
 Eighteenth Year — In her Twentieth Year — Her Manners in 
 Company — Her Bonhomie — Her Conversational Powers — Her 
 Religious Tendency — A Literary ' Portrait ' of her . , .74 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MARRIAGE — CORRESPONDENCE WITH GUSTAVUS III. 
 
 Baron de Stael — Count Fersen — Interest of the French Court in 
 the Marriage — Stael's subsequent Career — His Wife's Cor- 
 respondence with his King — French Court Life — Necker's 
 Restoration to Office 86 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LITERATURE — THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 Necker again in Office — First Publication of Madame de Stael — 
 i^etters on Rousseau — Her Opinion of Literary Life — 
 Madame Necker de Saussure's Estimate of the Letters — 
 Grimm's Criticism — Madame de Stael's Sympathy with the 
 Revolution — Her Account of the Opening of the States- 
 General — Necker's Dismissal — His Triumphal Return — Letter 
 from Mile. Huber — Riots of the People — Necker finally 
 retires lOO 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MADAME DE STAEL's HEROISM IN THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 Necker at Coppet — His Daughter's Correspondence with him 
 — Parisian Society at this epoch — Influence of Woman —
 
 Contents of the First Volume. [15] 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Madame de Stael iu the Perils of the Revolution — Heroic 
 Eflbrts for her Friendf- — She is arrested — Terrorism in Paris 
 — Her Escape to Coppet . 121 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AT COPPET. 
 
 ("oppet — Madame de Stael rescues Achille du Chayala — Mathieu 
 de Montmorency — Fate of his Family — Scenery of Lake 
 Leman — Lacretelle on the Heroism of Madame de Stael . 13Vt 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IN ENGLAND THE ROYAL EXECUTIONS. 
 
 The French Mickleham Colony — Fanny Biu'ney — Life at Mickle- 
 ham — The Burney Letters — Necker and the King's Death — 
 Madame de^tael pleads for the Queen — Execution of the 
 Queen— [Madame de Stael writes for Peace— (Hfer Politics . 146 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DEATH OF HER MOTHER. 
 
 Madame Necker's Sufferings— Last Interview with Gibbon — 
 Letter to bim — Her Character — Posthumous Letters to her 
 \ Husband — His Devotion to her — Moral Beauty of the Last 
 Scene 165 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 IN PARIS AGAIN. 
 
 Political Condition of France — M. de Stael— ^kJcial Reaction iu 
 Paris— Madame Tallien— The Salon again— Madame de Stael 
 and Talleyrand — She rescues Dupont de Nemours and Narvins 
 de Montbreton— Her Efforts for Lafayette— Her Womanly 
 Sensibility — Education and Career of her Son, Auguste — 
 Her Treatise on the Passions . . . . . . i; 
 
 ' VOL. I. a
 
 [ ] 6] Contents of the First Volu7ne. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 JIADAME DE STAEL AND BONAPARTE. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 A new Epoch in her Life — Her Relations to Napoleon — The 
 Cause of his Hostility— His Character — Anecdotes — Sophie 
 G av — Invasion of Switzerland— Scenes at Coppet . . . 194 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LIFE IN PARIS BENJAMIN CONSTANT. 
 
 Xecker — Madame de Stael's Separation from her Husband — Her 
 Daughter Albertine — Lacretelle — Benjamin Constant — 
 Madame de Oharriere — Madame de Stael's Salon — Con- 
 stant's Speech against the Government — Its Consequences 
 — r^adame de Stael's Work on Literature — It restores her 
 Social Position in Paris 214 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HER WORK ON LITERATURE. 
 
 Its Scope — The Perfectibility of Man — Contemporary Criticism 
 on the Book — Fontanes — Chateaubriand — Christianity — 
 What she meant by Perfectibility — Vico's Theory — Noble 
 Thoughts 230 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 DK OtKANDO, THE PHILOSOPHER — MADAME DE KRUDNER, 
 THE MYSTIC. 
 
 Her Relations with De Gerando — Annette de Gerando — Spiritu- 
 alism — Madame de Kriidner — Letter from De Gerando — Her 
 Salon in Paris — Necker's ' Last Views ' — Napoleon's Resent- 
 ment — Conversation with Lacretelle — Kant — Return to 
 Paris 247
 
 Cotitenls of the First Volume. [ i 7] 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LITERATURE — ' DELPHINE.' 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Publication of 'Delphine' — Criticism on it — Madame de Genlis 
 attacks it — Sophie Gay defends it— Madame de Stael's De- 
 fence of it — Talleyrand a Character in it — Ilis hon mot re- 
 specting it — Madame de Kriidner's Criticism . . . 275 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 COPPET AND ITS SOCIETY. 
 
 Glimpses of Ooppet — Its Society — Madame Rilliet-Huber — 
 Madame Necker de Saussure — Sismondi in Love — Madame 
 de Stael initiates his Historical Studies — Bonstetten — Frede- 
 rica Brun — Madame de Stael as a Mother — Daily Life at 
 Coppet ' . .280 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 EXILE — MADAME R^CAMIER. 
 
 Madame de Stael returns to France — Her Persecution by Bona- 
 parte — Madame Recamier — Her extraordinary Beauty and 
 Character — Her first Interview -udth Madame de Stael — The 
 latter seeks shelter with her — A Gendarme takes charge ot 
 Madame de Stael — Joseph Bonaparte — She departs for Ger- 
 many — Madame de Beaumont — Letter of Madame de Stael 
 to Chateaubriand 300 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MADAME DE STAEL AT 'WEIMAR. 
 
 Weimar— The Duchess Amelia— The Duke Charles Augustus— 
 The Intellectual Circle of Weimar-A>^land, Goethe and 
 Schiller— The Duchess Louise— liters of Goethe and Schiller 
 respecting Madame de Stael-^^Jfgr Estimates of Goethe, 
 Schiller and Wieland— Life at Weimar .... 318
 
 [i8] Co7itents of the First Volitme. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 BERLIN — RETURN DEATH OF NECKER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Madame de Stael at Berlin — Her Reception at Court — Its Page- 
 antries — Kotzebue — Augustus William Sclilegel — Execution 
 of the Due d'Enghien — Death of Necker and Return of 
 Madame de Stael — EHect of his Death on her — Her Publica- 
 tion of his 'Manuscripts ' — Society at Ooppet . . . 331 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LIFE AT COPPET. 
 
 Moral Effect of the Death of her Father — Her Religious Views — 
 Letter to Gouverneur Morris — Her Sketch of Necker's 
 Character and private Life — Society at Coppet — Bonstetten 
 — Schlegel — Miiller, the Historian — Her Opinion of him — 
 Madame Necker de Saussure — Letter to Madame Recamiei- . 34o 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ITALY ART. 
 
 Madame de Stael goes to Italy — Her Love of Music — Schlegel's 
 connection with her Works — Her Italian Tour — Observations 
 on Art — ' Corinne ' 366
 
 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION PARENTAGE. 
 
 Coppet — Chateau de Necker — Madame de Stael — The Necker Family — 
 James Necker— The Mother of Madame de Stael— Gibbon's Love — 
 Character and Writings of Madame Necker — Moultou — Bonstetten 
 — Voltaire— Salons of Paris — Madame Necker's Salon — Madame 
 du Deffand — Marmontel — Madame Necker and Madame Roland. 
 
 The tourist in Switzerland, passing on Lake Leman 
 from Lausanne to Geneva, sees on the north- 
 western shore a small village, nearly all the habit- 
 ations of which seem clinging to a central stately 
 structure : it is famous as the hamlet of Coppet, 
 and the parent edifice is the Chateau de Necker, the 
 ' home of Madame de Stael.' As the steamer ap- 
 proaches the pier, all eyes, of educated foreigners 
 at least, are turned from the subhmer scenery of 
 the opposite shore to gaze on the uiemorable site. 
 Guide books are eagerly consulted, and it is seldom 
 that groups of travellers do not leave the boat to 
 pay their homage at this shrine of the genius of the 
 greatest woman in hterary history. 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 Colonnades of ancient oaks, horse-chestnuts, 
 and sycamores extend from the landing up to the 
 mansion. The latter is spacious, but presents 
 an aspect more of comfort and good taste, than of 
 magnificence. Its principal court, formed on three 
 sides by the building, on the fourth by a lofty grilled 
 fence with ample gates, is adorned with flower beds, 
 and flowering vines chnib its angles to the roof. 
 From its open northern side extends a simple 
 picture of landscape beauty, designed more by 
 nature than art : a combined Enghsh garden and 
 park, with sward, clumps of flowering shrubs, and 
 stately trees ; a crystal brook (flowing down from 
 the Jura) on one side ; a fish-pond in the centre ; 
 and gravelled walks, with stone seats, winding 
 among the trees. 
 
 The interior of the mansion still retains, intact, 
 not a few mementoes of its celebrated mistress, 
 objects of eager interest to innumerable pilgrmis, — 
 a bedroom, with its antique furniture and tapestried 
 hangings ; a hbrary with its crowded book-cases, 
 writing desk, and pictures ; a salon with works 
 of art. Scattered through these apartments are 
 busts and portraits, of herself, of her first husband, 
 and her children ; of Necker her father, of her 
 mother, of Rocca her youthful lover and second 
 husband, of Augustus William Schlegel, and other 
 hterary friends. 
 
 West of the chateau lies the family cemetery, 
 entirely shut in from the sight of the visitor by high
 
 I. Coppet. 3 
 
 walls, and a dense copse of aged trees and entangled 
 shrubs and vines. In its centre stands a small 
 cliapel, within which sleeps the illustrious authoress, 
 with her parents, and around it rest her children 
 and grandchildren — four generations of the family 
 of Necker. It is a sombre enclosure, but the night- 
 ingales delight to sing in its deep shades, and the 
 vine-clad Juras on the one side, the lake and snow- 
 crowned Alps on the other, frame about it a picture 
 of exceeding beauty befitting the memory of its 
 chief tenant. 
 
 Far more interesting by its social and literary 
 memories than by its picturesque scenery, this 
 charming locality will be a centre of our narrative. 
 It was an intellectual centre of Europe in one of the 
 most eventful periods of modern history. We shall 
 have occasion incessantly to return to it ; we begin 
 with it, and must end with it. 
 
 Madame de Stael was unquestionably one of the ' / 
 principal figures in the history of French literature I 
 and society, if not indeed of French pohtics, during Y 
 the era of the first Eevolution and the first Empire. 
 Coppet, like Voltaire's neighbouring Ferney in the 
 preceding period, was a sort of European court, a 
 gathering place of hterary and poUtical notabilities; 
 and the great captain of the day was as jealous of 
 the pen of its chatelaine as of the sceptre of any 
 regal court. Her character is a study of rare 
 interest. She combined the heart of a woman with 
 the intellect of a man. Her ' Corinne ' is the ideal 
 
 B 2
 
 4 Madame de Sta'eL cil. 
 
 of woma;iliood endued with genius, while her 
 ' Allemagne ' is, says Sir James Mackintosh, ' the 
 most elaborate and mascuhne production of the 
 faculties of woman.' Mackintosh gave her pre- 
 cedence of all other women who have won a 
 name in authorship. Byron said, ' She is a woman 
 by herself, and has done more than all the rest of 
 them together, intellectually ; she ought to have 
 been a man.' Both knew her, and judged her from 
 personal intercourse as well as by her writings. 
 AHson estimated her as ' the first of female, and 
 second to few male authors.' Jeffrey expressed the 
 same opinion of her literary rank. Macaulay still 
 more emphatically said that 'she was certainly the 
 greatest woman of her times.' Schlegel, intimately 
 associated with her for years, pronounced her 'a 
 woman great and magnanimous even in the inmost 
 recesses of her soul.' ' She was,' says another 
 authority, ' probably the most remarkable woman 
 that Europe has produced.' ^ Her idolatrous filial 
 affection, culminating in the elegiac pathos, the 
 almost lyrical enthusiasm, of her biographical 
 introduction to the ' Manuscrits ' of Necker, is as 
 unique in hterature as the maternal passion which 
 is immortalised in the Sevigne Letters. Her con- 
 versational powers have probably never been sur- 
 passed, and she was the Queen of the Parisian 
 ' Salon ' of her age. Her activity in the pohtics, 
 
 ' Galiffe's Notices Gen6alogique8, tome ii. (4 vols.). Geneva, 1829- 
 
 1857.
 
 The Necker Family. 
 
 and in some of the most perilous scenes, of the 
 French Eevokition, invests her character mth ro- 
 mantic heroism, and connects her name with the 
 greatest epoch of modern European history. The 
 travels of her long exile rendered her cosmopohtan 
 in the hterary and social life of Europe, and the 
 
 j^ study of her hfe must be a study of the politics, the 
 
 y literature and society of her times. 
 
 Anne Louise Germaine Necker, Baronne de 
 Stael Holstein, was born at Paris on the 22nd of 
 April, 1766.^ Her father, James Necker, was a 
 native of Geneva, and was educated according to 
 the strict regimen estabhshed there by Calvin. 
 His own father, Charles Frederick Necker, was a 
 native of Prussia, but early became a citizen of 
 Geneva, and distinguished himself as Professor of 
 Law in the city ' Academy ' or University, and as 
 author of several elaborate publications. Another 
 son, Louis Necker, became Professor of Mathema- 
 tics in the same institution, was later a banker 
 at Paris and Marseilles, but finally returned to 
 his native city, and devoted the remainder of his 
 Hfe to physical and mathematical studies ; he also 
 
 ^ There are two records of her baptism in the city archives : in 
 ■one of them her parents bear the title * noble.' Jahl's Diet. Crit. et 
 Bio(j. Paris, 1872. The ' de ' (d' Albert) belonged to the .^Id French 
 Huguenot family of Madame Necker's mother. It belonged also to 
 the wife of Samuel Necker (advocate, of Custrin) Marguerite 
 Saphrasine de Labahache de Stettin — the parents of the grandfather 
 of Madame de Stael, Charles Frederick. Galitfe's A'o^j'ces Genealogiques, 
 tome ii.
 
 6 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 attained some rank as an author. A son of this 
 brother (James Necker) was sometime Professor 
 of Botany in the Academy, and a city magistrate, 
 but is better known as the husband of the accom- 
 phshed daughter of the ' physicist ' De Saussure 
 (Madame Necker de Saussure), the authoress of 
 an able work on Education, which was ' crowned ^ 
 by the French Academy, and one of the dearest 
 friends and best biographers of her cousin, Madame 
 de StaeL She will also be one of the most inte- 
 resting characters of our narrative. 
 
 Charles Frederick Necker founded, then, the 
 Genevan family with good Teutonic blood, ^ and 
 the best education of the times, invigorated rather 
 than impaired by the more than Lacedemonian 
 rigour of the contemporary Genevan life — a rigour 
 which survived, with but shght relaxation, the 
 first, if not the second quarter of the eighteenth 
 century. The Neckers were nearly all eminent 
 for their intellectual culture, their moral character, 
 and their success in life. James, the father of 
 Madame de Stael, gave historical distinction to the 
 family — a distinction immeasurably enhanced by 
 the genius of his only child. Though his domes- 
 tic and academic training had predisposed him to 
 hterary and philosophic studies — including theo- 
 logy, the dominant intellectual tendency of his 
 native city — his parents early destined him to 
 
 ' The family has Ijeen traced to Ireland, where it had, however, 
 an Ano-lo-Saxon orio-in.
 
 Her Father. 
 
 mercantile life, and sent him, when about fifteen 
 years old, to Paris, where he passed his noviciate 
 iii the banking-house of Vernet, a member of the 
 distinguished Genevese family of that name, with 
 whom the Neckers maintained intimate relations. 
 It is said that ' the clerk soon became master,' by 
 his brilliant superiority in all the problems of the 
 business. A fortunate altercation with the chief 
 of the house led to his crowning success. Vernet 
 lived in the country, and appeared in the bank 
 only at certain hours. A letter arrived from Hol- 
 land in his absence, proposing a negotiation which 
 was quite foreign to the usual transactions of the 
 firm. The chief clerk revealed it to Necker, who 
 forthwith wrote out its details, and calculated its 
 probabihties, with elaborate fulness. Vernet, on 
 arriving, was astonished and indignant at the pre- 
 sumption of the young subordinate, who thrust 
 under his eyes voluminous documents sketching 
 an immense scheme of business, as if he were 
 master of the estabhshment. High words passed 
 between them. Necker, afiirminor that, as nothino^ 
 had been consummated, there could be no conse- 
 quence to justify the severity of Vernet, suddenly 
 threw his documents into the fire and retired. 
 Vernet saw, after brief reflection, that the youth 
 had mastered the whole subject with astonishing 
 abihty, and immediately promoted him to the head 
 clerkship. Necker acquired, in three months, a 
 knowledge of the Dutch language in order to be
 
 8 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 able to deal with the capitalists of Holland, and, 
 when Vernet closed his successful business, he put 
 at his command sufficient funds to enable him 
 to join the Thellusons, as partner, in founding 
 the most celebrated French banking-house of 
 the times. 
 
 He devoted twenty years to the making of 
 his fortune, and then gave his attention to more 
 general and public interests. A syndic of the old 
 East India Company, he so conducted its affairs as 
 to attain an unrivalled fame for financial skill, and 
 a large increase of his own Avealth, which was 
 further augmented by extensive negotiations in the 
 corn market. The repubhc of Geneva was proud 
 of the ability and integrity of her son, and ap- 
 pointed him her resident minister at the Court of 
 Versailles, where his talents were highly appreci- 
 ated, especially by the Due de Choiseul. He had 
 not only become one of the ablest financiers of the 
 age, but had cultivated literature. The collected 
 works of his pen fill fifteen volumes, and are cha- 
 racterised by profound reflection and a vigorous 
 though somewhat peculiar style. His first publica- 
 tions were ' Memoires ' relating to the affairs of the 
 Indian Company. His ' Eloge de Colbert ' com- 
 manded much attention, and was crowned by the 
 French Academy. His treatise ' Sur la Legislation 
 et le Commerce des Grains ' produced a remarkable 
 impression, and led, at last, to his elevation to the 
 royal cabinet. His ' Compte Eendu au Eoi ' threw
 
 Neckers Writi7igs. 
 
 all France into agitation, and effectively helped to 
 bring on the Revolution. His ' Administration des 
 Finances ' excited a still greater sensation. His 
 * Importance des Opinions Eeligieuses ' was an able 
 though cautious attempt to check the anti-Christian 
 tendencies of his age, and an admirable expression 
 of his own deeply religious character. If somewhat 
 defective in its theology, it is nevertheless pure and 
 subhme in its ethics. Buffon sent, from his death- 
 bed, his emphatic thanks to the author. It was 
 the last book read by the naturahst, and his letter 
 was the last that he ever wrote or dictated. ' The 
 book of Necker,'says Sainte-Beuve, ' had the honour 
 to draw from this great mind the last words in 
 which he recognised the Supreme Being and im- 
 mortality.'* The fragments of his ' Manuscrits,' 
 published by his daughter, show much insight and 
 subtlety in his judgment of character, and prove, 
 says his ablest critic, that ' Necker, as a morahst, 
 was a writer very acute, very piquant, and too 
 much forgotten.' ^ He had evidently been a 
 student, though he was no imitator, of Eochefou- 
 cauld and Vauvenargues. His little essay on ' Le 
 Bonheur des Sots ' is not unworthy of La Bruyere ; 
 it amused his generation, and showed that, beneath 
 his habitual gravity, there was a Hving source of 
 humour. His ' Cours de Morale Eehmeuse ' is 
 another proof of his profound interest in religion, 
 
 ■* Sainte-Beuve, Causeries, tome vii. (14 vols,). Paris, 1862. 
 ^ Ibid.
 
 lo Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 at a time when it seemed to be losing entirely its 
 hold on the mind of Europe. Necker's best re- 
 hgious writings preceded those of the author of 
 the ' G^nie du Christianisme,' and he ranks by the 
 side of Chateaubriand in the reaction in favour 
 of Christianity which followed the disastrous scep- 
 ticism of the Ee volution. Sainte-Beuve admits that 
 his rehgious works are characterised by ' a per- 
 fect sincerity, an unction, a sensibihty profound 
 and persuasive, which pervade his style and which 
 often replace metaphysics by touching moral sen- 
 timent.' ^ 
 
 When Necker's superior qualities, especially 
 his financial ability and integrity, led to his call to 
 the government of Louis XVI., it was hoped he 
 might rescue the sinking State from the overwhelm- 
 ing financial difficulties which, at last, wrecked it 
 in the Eevolution, and from which no power on 
 earth could save it. His pohcy of retrenchment 
 and rigid integrity, as well as his Protestantism, 
 arrayed against him hosts of courtly and official 
 enemies. He was, as we shall hereafter see, 
 repeate'dly displaced and recalled, amidst the 
 enthusiastic sympathies of the people, who, on his 
 dismissal, closed the theatres, and bore his bust, 
 draped in black, through the streets ; and, on his 
 
 ® For a detailed account of liis writings, and also those of Madame 
 Necker, see Sayou's Le Dix-huitieme Si'ecle a VEtramjer ; Histoire de 
 la Litterature Franqaise dans les divers Pays de VEurope, tome ii. livre 
 xiv. cliap. iv. Paris, 1861. This author gives some interesting facts 
 respecting Madame Necker in chaps, xiii.-xv. of livre xii. (vol. ii.).
 
 I, Necker's Character. ii 
 
 return, drew his carriage in triumph and made all 
 Paris jubilant. 
 
 His characteristic excellences were not un- 
 marred by characteristic faults. He was ambiti- 
 ous of popularity, and too self-conscious, especially 
 of his abilities and merits. His sentimentality, a 
 virtue in his writings and conversation, was a fault 
 in his j)ohtics. His style was too complicated, too 
 abstract, too oracular. He has been called the 
 father of the doctrinaire school of pohtics,^ of 
 which Eoyer Collard, Guizot, and the Due de 
 Broglie, have been the most distinguished repre- 
 sentatives in our century — a school which proposed 
 to ' impress a new direction on France, to reform her 
 impetuous temperament, and to give constitutional 
 equilibrium to her political hfe.' This school bore, 
 more or less, the impress of both his AngHcan 
 pohtical ideas and of his Hterary style. 
 
 In person Necker was as remarkable as in char- 
 acter. ' His features,' says his wife, in a literary 
 ' Portrait,' ' resemble those of no one else ; the form 
 of his face is extraordinary. A high retreating 
 forehead, a chin of unusual length ; vivid brown 
 eyes, full of tenderness, sometimes of melancholy, 
 and arched by elevated brows, gave him an ex- 
 pression quite original.' His statue at Coppet, 
 somewhat theatrical in its attitude, expresses grace 
 and grandeur of both soul and person. 
 
 Such was the father of Madame de Stael. His 
 
 ^ Rey's Genhve et les Rives du Lcman, cbap. ix.
 
 1 2 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 style of both thought and language, relieved of its 
 pecuhar defects, and endued with richer vigour 
 and elegance, reappear in her own writings. Her 
 intellectual legitimacy is indisputable. 
 
 Her mother was hardly less remarkable than 
 her father, for qualities rare among her sex in that 
 day. Susanna Curchod was the daughter of a 
 humble Swiss pastor of Grassier, a hamlet of the 
 Jura mountains.^ Hardly could a retreat be found 
 better fitted, by its tranquillity, its scenery, or its 
 unsophisticated society, for the training of a pre- 
 cocious child ; and it was said that her father 
 bestowed upon her as complete an education as 
 fell to the lot of any woman in Europe. She was 
 taught thoroughly the classic and modern lan- 
 guages, and became a proficient in most of the 
 learning usually pursued by men destined to the 
 career of science or letters. Her daughter tells 
 us that during all her lifetime it was her dehght 
 to hear the ancient poets read in the original. 
 Gibbon, the historian, says that her occasional 
 visits, in her youth, to Lausanne, where he then 
 resided, led to such reports of her beauty and 
 intellect as befitted only a ' prodigy,' and awakened 
 his curiosity to see her.^ She was a favourite 
 among the highest neighbouring families ; a local 
 
 ^ Vuillemin's ie Canton de Vaud. Lausanne, 1862. 
 
 ^ Gibbon's Memoirs of my Life and Writings. See also the Salon 
 de Madmne Necker, apres des documents tires des archives de Coppet, 
 etc., par M. Otbeiiin d'Haussonville, in Revue des Deux Mondes, 1880.
 
 Her Mother. 13 
 
 writer records that the beautiful and spirituelle 
 girl was often seen riding a mule along the roads, 
 from chateau to chateau, to give lessons, and her 
 charms and talents excited entJiusiasm in the 
 cultivated circles of Lausanne.^ 
 
 With the characteristic good sense and econo- 
 mical forethought of the Swiss, her father knew 
 that she could have no better provision for the 
 future than a well furnished and well disciplined 
 mind. Gibbon says that she was accomplished in 
 manners as well, and that her wit and personal 
 attractions were the theme of universal interest. 
 She was not without worthy suitors ; but her father 
 chose meanwhile to secure her independence by 
 qualifying her for the office of teacher or governess, 
 assured that if she should never need to use her 
 qualifications in this laborious service, they would 
 not the less fit her for her own household, however 
 opulent it might be. In preparing her to be a 
 teacher, he prepared her to preside in the highest 
 circles of Parisian life ; to command the admiring 
 homage of the Parisian men of letters ; to stand, 
 superior in intellect, as in character, among the 
 courtly women of Versailles ; and, above all, to 
 give to France, in the person of her own thoroughly 
 educated child, the most accomplished female in- 
 tellect of her age. 
 
 Gibbon's story of his love for her, and its 
 disappointment, is well known ; but it is worth 
 
 ^ Eey's Geneve, &c. xiii.
 
 14 . Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 repeating, as not only characteristic of himself, but 
 of Mademoiselle Ciirchod. ' I need not blush,' he 
 says, ' at recollecting the object of my choice ; and 
 though my love was disappointed of success, I am 
 rather proud that I was once capable of feehng 
 such a pure and exalted sentiment. The personal 
 attractions of Mademoiselle Curchod were embel- 
 lished by the virtues and talents of her mind. Her 
 fortunes were humble, but her family was respect- 
 able. Her mother, a native of France, had pre- 
 ferred her rehgion to her country. The profession 
 of her father did not extinguish the moderation 
 and philosophy of his temper, and he lived con- 
 tent with a small salary and laborious duty, in the 
 obscure lot of minister of Grassier, in the mountains 
 that separate the Pays de Vaud from the country 
 of Burgundy. In the solitude of a sequestered 
 village he bestowed a liberal and even learned 
 education on his only daughter. She surpassed 
 his hopes by her proficiency in the sciences and 
 languages ; and in her short visits to some of her 
 relations at Lausanne, the wit, the beauty, and 
 the erudition of Mademoiselle Curchod were the 
 theme of universal applause. The report of such 
 a prodigy awakened my curiosity. I saw, and 
 I loved. I found her learned without pedantry, 
 lively in conversation, pure in sentiment, and ele- 
 gant in manners ; and the first sudden emotion 
 was fortified by the habits and knowledge of a 
 more familiar acquaintance. She permitted me to
 
 I. Gibbons Love. 15 
 
 make her two or three visits at her father's house. 
 I passed some happy clays there, in the moun- 
 tains of Burgundy, and her parents honourably 
 encouraged the connection. In a calm retirement, 
 the gay vanity of youth no longer fluttering in 
 her bosom, she listened to the voice of truth and 
 passion, and I might presume to hope that I had 
 made some impression on a virtuous heart. At 
 Crassier and Lausanne I indulged my dream ^ of 
 fehcity ; but on my return to England, I soon dis- 
 covered that my father would not hear of this 
 strange alliance, and that, without his consent, I 
 was myself destitute and helpless. After a painful 
 struggle I yielded to my fate ; I sighed as a lover, I 
 ■obeyed as a son ; my wound was insensibly healed 
 by thne, absence, and the habits of a new hfe. My 
 cure was accelerated by a faithful report of the 
 tranquilhty and cheerfulness of the lady herself ; 
 and my love subsided in friendship and esteem. 
 The minister of Crassier soon afterwards died ; his 
 stipend died mth him ; his daughter retired to 
 Oeneva, where, by teaching young ladies, she 
 earned a hard subsistence for herself and her 
 motlier ; but in her lowest distress she maintained 
 a spotless reputation and a dignified behaviour.^ A 
 
 ^ She had previoiisly maintained herself and her mother by teach- 
 ing schools in Lausanne and Neuchsitel ; it is doubtful that she taught 
 in QeneA-a, though she was there in the family of her friend Moultou 
 some time before she went to Paris. See Lettrcs diverses recueillies 
 m Suisse, par le Oomte Golowkin. Paris, 1821. This writer gives 
 some forty letters from her pen.
 
 1 6 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 rich banker of Paris, a citizen of Geneva, had the 
 good fortune to discover and possess this inesti- 
 mable treasure ; and in the capital of wealth and 
 luxury she resisted the temptations of wealth as 
 she had sustained the hardships of indigence. The 
 iXenius of her husband has exalted him to the most 
 conspicuous station in Europe. In every change 
 of prosperity and disgrace he has reclined on the 
 bosom of a faithful friend, and Mademoiselle 
 Curchod is now the wife of Monsieur Necker, the 
 Minister, and perhaps the legislator, of the French 
 monarchy.' ^ Gibbon never married. He main- 
 tained throughout his hfe an intimate friendship, 
 full of delicacy and esteem, for Madame Necker 
 and her husband ; he frequented their home in 
 Paris, corresponded with them, and was proud of 
 Madame Necker 's appreciation of his great work. 
 
 Madame Necker de Saussure describes her as 
 endowed with firmness of character, strength of 
 intellect, and a remarkable capacity for labour ; 
 as not only educated to an extraordinary degree 
 in both science and letters, but as especially having 
 that ' spirit of method ' which serves for the acqui- 
 sition of all things } With brilhant faculties and 
 personal attractions she combined the highest 
 moral qualities. Her religious principles were 
 never shaken by the scepticism and Hcensed im- 
 
 ^ Memoirs &c. 
 
 * Notice sur le Caractere et les JEcrits de Madame de Sta'el, vol» 
 i. of her Q^uvres comidetes (17 vols.). Paris, 1820.
 
 Madame Necker. 1 7 
 
 morality, which prevailed around her Parisian 
 home. The lessons of the humble parsonage of 
 Grassier remained ever vivid in her soul, sanctif}^- 
 ing her life and consoling her death. Her essay 
 entitled ' Eeflexions sur le Divorce' is an example 
 of luminous reasoning and original style. It is 
 a plea for tlie sacredness of marriage, against the 
 loose opinions regarding it which characterised the 
 epoch of the Eevolution. Its last chapter, on the 
 mutual succours and consolations of the aged in 
 married life, is pathetically eloquent. She wrote 
 from her own experience, and, as she says, to lead 
 others to desire and attain a happiness which she 
 herself enjoyed. Her ' Melanges ' ^ are distinguished 
 by good sense, acute and epigrammatic observa- 
 tions on almost every subject that she touches, 
 and by a moral elevation quite in contrast with the 
 tendencies of opinion around her. Necker said of 
 her, that, ' to render her perfectly amiable, she 
 only needed some fiiult to pardon in herself.' Her 
 greatest fault was perhaps her moral rigour ; the 
 forbearance which she needed not herself, she was 
 slow to accord to feebler characters. ' She could 
 captivate,' says Madame Necker de Saussure, 
 ' when she wished ; she freely gave praise where 
 it was merited ; her blue eyes were soft and 
 caressing, and her face had an expression of 
 
 ^ Miscellaneous Papers, published by Necker <after her death : 3 
 vols. 8vo. in 1798 ; and 2 vols. 8vo. {Nouveaux Melanges) in 1802. 
 Geneva. 
 
 VOL I. C
 
 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 extreme purity, and of candour, wliicli made, with 
 her tall and rather rigid figure, a contrast suffi- 
 ciently fascinating.'^ 
 
 Such was the woman whom Necker chose for 
 his wife, while flushed with his rising fortunes and 
 fame, and when slie was struggling, alone in the 
 world, with poverty and labour. After the death 
 of her mother, she continued to teach for her 
 living ; but her life of toil was consoled by the 
 intimacy and admiration of many eminent char- 
 acters, particularly by the dearest friendship of 
 her youth, with Moultou, a clergyman of Geneva, 
 whom even Voltau^e could not fail to reverence, 
 and of whom she wrote an enthusiastic eulogy 
 or ' Portrait.' '' The philosopher Bonstetten (the 
 life-long friend of Madame de Stael, and an habi- 
 tual guest at the ' little court ' of Coi^pet) was one 
 of her ardent admirers, and, in his old age, records 
 the pleasant excursions which he made, on every 
 Saturday, with her and Moultou, to Voltaire's 
 neighbouring Chateau de Ferney.^ The ' Patri- 
 arch of Ferney ' could not but admire her intellec- 
 tual accomplishments, notwithstanding their reli- 
 gious differences, and was her flattering correspon- 
 dent through the remainder of his life. Voltaire's 
 brave fights for toleration, extending through 
 
 ^ Notice &c. 
 
 ' It is Moultou whom she describes in her ' Portrait of my Friend,' 
 Nouveaux Melanges, vol. ii. 
 
 ^ Bonstetten's Souvenirs. Paris, 1832. 
 
 i
 
 I. Madame Vermenoiix. 19 
 
 many years, in the famous cases of the Protestant 
 families of Galas and Sirven, and of the Protestant 
 galley slaves, commanded for him the interest, if 
 not the affection, of the Swiss and French Protes- 
 tants generally, in spite of their profound repug- 
 nance to his anti-Christian writings. Moultou stood 
 side by side with him, his most effective assistant, 
 throughout those prolonged contests which moved 
 all Europe ; and Necker and his wife acknowledged 
 the beneficent services of the ' Patriarch ' through 
 a life-long friendship.^ 
 
 A lady of society and wealth, Madame de Ver- 
 menoux, travelling for health, took Mademoiselle 
 Curchod to Paris to instruct her son in Latin. 
 Necker had been paying his addresses to this 
 fashionable widow ; but she had deferred her 
 answer to his proposal of marriage, hoping for a 
 more aristocratic offer. Wliile absent she wrote to 
 him decHning his proposal ; but she now returned, 
 Avith the young governess, intending to accept 
 the wealthy banker, whose fortunes and reputation 
 had considerably augmented during her travels. 
 Necker, however, was so struck with the superior 
 qualities of Mademoiselle Curchod, that he trans- 
 ferred to her his attentions and affections. They were 
 married in 1764 ; he aged thirty-two, she twenty-five 
 years. ' Their marriage,' says his biographer, 'caused 
 
 * The Pastor Gaberel sliows that Moultou was worthy of the 
 admiration of Mademoiselle Curchod. Voltaire et les Genevois, ix. 
 Paris, 1857. 
 
 c2
 
 20 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CH. 
 
 Madame de Vermenoiix acute suffering, the traces of 
 which were never entirely effaced from her heart, 
 but her relations with them remained friendly.' ^ 
 ' Erom her marriage to her death,' adds this au- 
 thority, ' thirty years passed in a union the most 
 virtuous and the most affectionate of which his- 
 tory, and, I will venture to say, fiction, can offer 
 an instance.' 'From this moment,' remarks the 
 Duchesse d'Abrantes, ' she became the guardian 
 angel of Necker : her husband was proud of her, 
 and he had reason to be.' ' He chose her,' says 
 another authority, ' only for her virtues and her 
 charms. He discovered in her an enthusiasm for 
 success and distinction which gave, perhaps, the 
 first impulse to the still higher career in which he 
 was afterwards distinguished.' ^ 
 
 Notwithstanding Necker's rare financial genius, 
 he had, as we have seen, aspirations above tlie 
 
 ^ Memoirs, by liis grandson, Baron de Stael, tome i. of Necker's 
 (Euvres com^iletes (15 vols. 8vo.), Paris, 1820-21. I prefer this au- 
 tliority to that of the Duchesse d'Abrantes, who (Histoire des Salons 
 de Farts, page 58, tome i. Paris, 1837) represents Madame Vermenoiix 
 as promoting the marriage, and as even assisting the young couple with 
 money to begin housekeeping. Necker had been two years a partner in 
 the greatest banking-house of Paris, soon to be the greatest in Europe. 
 It was in the year of his marriage that he revived the fortunes of the 
 Company of the Indies. In a letter written by Mile. Curchod, the 
 day before her marriage, to Madame de Brenles, she says of Necker, 
 ' His talents and prudence have procured for him more considera- 
 tion than his fortune, though he has an income of 26,000 livres.' 
 (Count Golowkin's Lettres diverses I'ecueillics en Suisse, &c. Geneva, 
 1821.) Marmontel gives a very flattering account of Madame Verme- 
 noux {Memoii-es, livre x. (Euwcs ComiJletcs, 7 vols. Paris, 1820). 
 
 * Biographie Universdle.
 
 The Necker Salon. 2 1 
 
 pursuits of gain. These pursuits were indeed, at 
 times, quite irksome to him. He early gave 
 himself to literary composition, and his youthful 
 essays (mostly poetic and dramatic) are said to 
 have been marked by much vigour and spirit ; 
 but he had the good sense not to publish them. 
 Detesting the monotony of the banking-house, 
 he nevertheless devoted his chief energy to the 
 completion of his fortune and his reputation as a 
 financier, hoping that thereby he might at last find, 
 opening before him, a career more befitting his 
 better tastes. His accomplished wife shared his 
 ambition, for she could appreciate his competence 
 for its highest aims. Soon after their marriage she 
 opened lier house for the reception of the leaders 
 of opinion and society in the capital, proud to have 
 her husband known and tested among them. She 
 became tlie presiding genius of one of the most 
 influential salons at a period when the Parisian 
 salon was still a centre of power, social, pohtical, 
 and literary — when Madame Geoffrin's circle shone 
 as a constellation of the highest intellects of the 
 metropoHs ; when the Marquise du Deffand was 
 reigning, imperially, in her parties on the Eue 
 Saint-Dominique ; and Mademoiselle de Lespinasse 
 had just revolted from the tyranny of the blind old 
 marquise, and had set up her rival salon, under the 
 auspices of D'Alembert, drawing with her, by tlie 
 fjiscination of her versatile accomphshments and 
 her Sapi)liic enthusiasm, the savants and litterateurs
 
 2 2 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 of the city. The company of Madame Necker's 
 mansion soon inchided many of the most noted 
 writers of the day — BufFon, Marmontel, Saint- 
 Lambert, Thomas, Duclos, Diderot, La Harpe, 
 D'Alembert, Grimm, Eaynal, Dehlle, Morellet, Gib- 
 bon, Hnme,^ not to name a host of marshals, 
 dukes, marquises, and counts. Madame du Def- 
 fand herself frequented the salon of her new rival, 
 and has left many allusions to it in her letters to- 
 Walpole.^ ' I supped yesterday,' she writes, ' at St, 
 Ouen, witli the Duchesse de Luxembourg, the 
 Bishop of Mirepoix, &c. Necker has much intellect. 
 He resembles you in some respects.' Again : ' He 
 is a very upright man ; has much mind, but is 
 too metaphysical in his writings. Li society he is 
 natural and gay, has exceeding frankness, but says 
 little, and is often absent-minded. I sup once a 
 week at his country mansion at St. Ouen. His wife * 
 has intellect and merit. Her society is composed 
 ordinarily of men of letters, who, as you know, do 
 
 ^ Hume is not usually named, in tlie enumeration of her guests, by 
 French writers, hut she often alludes to him in her correspondence. 
 In a letter to Madame de Breules (1765) she says : ' As to Hiune, 
 imagine to yourself a very gallant giant, with eyes having the insight 
 of the philosopher ; with good features, though dull j^et mild ; tolerable 
 conversational powers, but with an air of reserved thought as 
 though not expressing all that he thinks, an air which does not belong 
 to a fi'anlj character ; and withal a bonhomie, in society, which aston- 
 ishes and enchants, &c.' Lettres diversps recueillies en Suisse, &c., par 
 le Oomte Golowldn. Geneva, 1821. 
 
 ^ Lettres de la Marquise du Deffand a Horace Walpole, vols. iii» 
 and iv. jnimm (6 vols.). Paris, 1812.
 
 Neckers Character. 
 
 not like me ; it is in spite of them that she has taken 
 to me.' ^ Ao-ain : ' Both of them have intellect, parti- 
 cuiarly he ; but he lacks one quahty which renders 
 talent most agreeable — a certain facility, which eli- 
 cits thoughts from those with whom one converses ; 
 he does not aid in the development of one's own 
 ideas ; and one is more stupid with him than when 
 alone or with others.' Still later : 'I supped yester- 
 day with the Keekers. He is truly a good man. He 
 has capacity without presumption, generosity mth- 
 out ostentation, prudence without dissimulation. 
 It will be a good choice for the government to 
 employ such a man, but his reUgion is an insur- 
 mountable obstacle.' Again : ' They are upright 
 people ; the husband has high intellect and truthful- 
 ness ; the wife is rigid and frigid, but good.' The 
 marquise Avas morally incapable of appreciating a 
 character hke that of Madame Necker, and seems 
 to have become aware of the fact. She writes again : 
 ' The wife lias intellect, but is of a sphere too 
 elevated for one to communicate Avith her. Her 
 husband has more than she ; the most perhaps of any 
 man in our nation at the present time ; but he has 
 no pedantry nor self-sufficiency. One is embarrassed 
 with him ; but he has frankness, good-humour, and 
 cordiality.' At another time she reports as pre- 
 sent, ' all the ministers, secretaries of state, diplo- 
 
 ^ The aged and cynical Marquise bad been a favourite of the 
 Parisian pkilosophea ; but Mile. Lespiuasse bad drawn them away 
 from ber.
 
 24 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 matists — entertained Avitli music, iwoverhe''^^ all 
 the pleasures combined. My opinion is that the 
 government could not employ a more capable man 
 than Necker, more firm, more clear-headed, more 
 disinterested.' Still later, after Ins appointment to 
 the finances, she alludes with prophetic sagacity to 
 his persecutiouj and predicts that ' he will retire 
 from office, that everything will then give way ; 
 the public credit will be ruined ; all will fall into 
 chaos, his enemies will be triumphant ; they will 
 fish in troubled waters ; they will affirm that his 
 system, his operations, were only chimerical visions. 
 This is what I, and many others, foresee. A greater 
 misfortune cannot befall this country.' We find 
 in these voluminous letters no allusions to the 
 precocious child of the family, tliough some of them 
 were written after she had been admitted to the 
 company of the salon., and had attracted the atten- 
 tion of the guests. These intimations, respecting 
 her parents, are, however, of some value ; they 
 afford us glim|)ses of their chai'acters by one of the 
 shrewdest observers. Madame du Deffand, never- 
 theless, exaggerated the defects of Madame Necker. 
 The higher intellectual culture and moral purity 
 of the latter were a tacit rebuke of the character 
 and frivolous life of the marquise — a character and 
 life which she herself continiuilly acknowledges, 
 in these famous letters, to be witliout self-respect, 
 and almost insupportably miserable. Her impartial 
 
 ^ Brief dramas for domestic theatricals.
 
 1. Madame Neckers Character. 25 
 
 judgments were always acute, but her prejudices 
 were extreme, and rendered many of her estmiates 
 of character mere caricatures/ 
 
 Marmontel, who was the earhest literary guest 
 of the house, excepting Thomas, fondly admired 
 the genius of the daughter, and shared the preju- 
 dices of Madame du DefFand against the mother. 
 Their loose philosophy could not brook her religi- 
 ous pertinacity. Nor did Marmontel regard more 
 cordially Necker himself, though he admits repeat- 
 edly his ability and his perfect moral integrity. 
 For years he ate heartily the suppers of the great 
 financier, but left for pubhcation, when the latter 
 was in liis -grave, disparaging allusions to him. 
 ' Necker,' lie writes, ' was not my friend, and I was 
 not his.' He was compelled to esteem, but could 
 not admire, Madame Necker, though he acknow- 
 ledges her to have been, at his first introduction to 
 her, ' young, sufficiently beautiful, and of a dazzhng 
 freshness,' possessing the ' charms of modesty, 
 candour, goodness,' of ' culture and an excellent 
 natural disposition ; ' ' sentiment in her was perfect ' 
 — certainly a rare example of accomphshed woman- 
 hood. All these admissions, however, are but 
 conciliatory preliminaries to a series of detractions 
 — exaggerations of undeniable but minor defects, 
 which deserved kindlier treatment after so many 
 
 ^ Her opinions of Turgot and not a few others, and some of her 
 ' Portraits ' (notably of Madame du Cliatelet, Voltaire's ' divine Emilie ) 
 are examples.
 
 26 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 years of hospitality and, as lie affirms, of affection- 
 ate partiality. She had ' none of the agrements of 
 a young French woman ; ' ' she had no taste in dress,' 
 no ' ease in her bearing,' no ' attraction of manners.' 
 Buffon and Thomas were, in his estimation, autho- 
 rities too absolute, with her, in literary matters : 
 ' lacking accuracy of thought and style, one would 
 have supposed that she reserved correctness for the 
 rule of her duties ; there all was precise and severely 
 compassed.' He even complains that ' it was not 
 for US-guests, nor for herself, that she gave us the 
 entertainments of her salon, but for her husband ' 
 — for the relief of a faithful public servant upon 
 whom leaned a falling State ! Marmontel had been 
 too much addicted to the frivolous and hbertine 
 world of Paris to appreciate such conjugal sjmi- 
 pathy. Her morale was incomprehensible to him. 
 Though she lavished special attentions upon him, 
 ' our minds and tastes,' he admits, ' were not in 
 harmony. I attempted to oppose her high concep- 
 tions ; it was necessary that she should descend 
 from her inaccessible heights to communicate with 
 me.' It is not improbable that his admiration for 
 ' la belle Vermenoux ' (as he calls her), whom the 
 young wife had superseded in the affections of 
 Necker, had something to do with these prejudices. 
 The widow was a devoted friend of Marmontel, and 
 especially of his wife. He portrays her with rapture. 
 She was the ' image of Minerva, but her brilliant 
 visage could readily assume that air of gracioiisness,
 
 I. Madame Neckei'''s Cluij-acter. 27 
 
 serenity, and simple, decent gaiety, which renders 
 wisdom amiable. She and my wife were in perfect 
 ]iarmony of mind, of taste, and of manners. With 
 what pleasure did this woman, habitually solitary 
 and self-collected, see us arrive at her country 
 house at Sevres ! With what joy did her soul 
 surrender itself to the tenderness and exhilara- 
 tions of friendship at our little suppers in Paris ! ' 
 Though Madame Vermenoux was a welcome guest 
 at the table of Madame Necker, Marmontel's parti- 
 ality for the former could hardly admit of impar- 
 tiality for the latter. 
 
 The viemoires of the time abound in criticism 
 on the Necker salon, as on the salons of the 
 metropolis generally, biassed by the social and 
 pohtical j)artisanship of the day ; but the most re- 
 liable authorities, while admitting the pecuharities 
 of Madame Necker, show her to have been pre- 
 eminent in character, talents, and social tact. The 
 historian of the ' Salons of Paris ' represents her 
 as ' an angel of virtue amidst that Court of Ver- 
 sailles, the noise of which only could reach her ; ' 
 as ' naturally sjnrituelle, and perfectly instructed ; ' 
 as having ' a sustained vivacity of mind, an un- 
 failing sweetness.' The salons of Paris ' were 
 tlien true schools, whose discussions were with- 
 out scholastic pedantry, and Madame Necker and 
 Madame Poland were the two chiefs in these 
 arenas, where intellect appeared in all its forms : 
 Madame Necker for the defence of religious ideas,
 
 2S Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 Madame Eoland for that of liberal opinions, whicli 
 at this period had abeady caused a general move- 
 ment. Both gave a new impulse to the times.' 
 ' Contrary to what has been said of the stiffness of 
 Madame Necker, she did the honours of her salon 
 charmingly. It is false that she was affectedly lofty 
 in her conversation. Li short, one found oneself 
 more at ease with her than, later, with Madame 
 de Stael, notwithstanding the brilliant genius and 
 wonderful readiness of the latter.' ' She had an 
 exquisite pohteness in conversation.' ^ 
 
 In a hoary tower of the chateau at Coppet is 
 a room protected by an iron barred door, in which 
 the old archives of the family are deposited. 
 Among a mass of other documents are twenty- 
 seven volumes of letters, mostly from distinguished 
 habitues of Madame Necker's salon — from Buffon, 
 Grimm, Gibbon, Marmontel, D'Alembert, Diderot, 
 the Abbes Morellet and Gahani, and Mesdames du 
 Deffand, Geoffrin, d'Houdetot, &c. Marmontel's 
 letters, there, belie his Memoirs. He speaks of her 
 conversation as ' one of the greatest cliarms of my 
 life.' When she was travelhng for health he wrote, 
 ' I cannot be gay till I learn that you improve ; 
 then I shall be foohshly so. In order to be gay 
 I must be happy, and this I cannot be while any- 
 thing remains for me to desire for you.' Diderot, 
 whose writings were so brilliant and so corrupt, 
 
 ^ Ducliesse cl'Abrantes' Histoire dcs Salons de Paris &c. tome i. 
 (6 vols). Paris, 1837.
 
 I. Salons of Paris. 29- 
 
 wrote to her : ' How many things you will find in 
 them which would never have been written, nor 
 imagined, if I had had the honour of knowing you 
 earlier.' — ' You certainlj^ would have inspired me 
 with a taste for purity and dehcacy which would 
 liave passed from my soul into my works.' He wrote 
 of her as ' a woman who possesses all the jDurity 
 of an angelic soul joined to refinement of taste.' 
 The brilliant Abbe Galiani, one of the gayest of 
 her guests, wrote frequent and long letters to her 
 from Italy. ' The Alps,' he said, ' separate us ; but 
 neither time nor Alps can efface the memory of the 
 delicious days I have passed with you.' In short, the 
 most polished men of these corrupt times, Avhile 
 wondering at her ' rigorous regard for decency,' 
 as said the Abbe Morellet, admired her character 
 and her talents.^ 
 
 Never, since the salon became a social institu- 
 tion (if we may so call it) of France, never since 
 tlie days of the Hotel de Eambouillet, were these 
 reunions greater centres of power than now, 
 when vague presentiments of the Eevolution were 
 stirring all minds. Their influence was rapidly 
 communicated to the entire nation. In those of 
 Madame Geoffrin, of Madame du Deffand, of Made- 
 moiselle Lespinasse, of the Duchesse de Choiseul, 
 and particularly of the Duchesse de Luxembourg, 
 the elegant world of the Court found itself on a 
 footing of equality with the men of letters who 
 
 ' JZeywe des Beux Mondes, 1880.
 
 30 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 then dominated in French society. It was from 
 the salons of Paris that, hiter, the speeches of the 
 Constituent Assembly went to the tribune ; in 
 these reunions were sketched tlie attacks and 
 rephes of the great adversaries who combated in 
 that memorable arena.^ Madame Necker's con- 
 tinued in full power till within a few months of the 
 opening of Madame Eoland's : the former was a 
 centre of what might be called the progressive- 
 conservative opinions of the day ; the latter of the 
 more advanced liberalism. The simultaneous ap- 
 pearance of these two most admirable women of 
 the Eevolutionary epoch was one of its many 
 anomalies. With marked contrasts, they had many 
 traits in common. They were both highly edu- 
 cated, and, judging from their writings, of nearly 
 equal intellect. They were both exceptionally 
 pure, among their class, in their domestic life ; 
 both profoundly patriotic, both womanly in heart 
 and manly in mind. The one was devotedly and 
 intelligently Christian, and died, as we shall here- 
 after see, tranquilly amidst the dearest sympathies 
 of her family, and with the highest consolations of 
 her rehgion ; the other rejected Christianity for 
 the ' philosophy ' of the age, and died with Spartan 
 heroism on the scaffold. Their correspondences 
 
 ^ Histoire des Salons de Paris &c., latrod. More than half the first 
 volume of this work is devoted to the salon of Madame Necker, Its 
 characters are real, bat its scenes are fictitious. The Introduction 
 (more than eighty pages) is liistorical, and mostly relates to the 
 Neckers.
 
 Mademoiselle Necker. 3 1 
 
 and contrarieties of character may well suggest 
 the necessity of a generous judgment of human 
 nature. 
 
 It was in such times, amidst the intellectual 
 provocations, and moral perils, of the salon life of 
 Paris, and the alarming j)resages of the Eevolution, 
 that Madame de Stael spent her girlhood and re- 
 ceived her education. ' She was,' as Sainte-Beuve 
 says, ' a daughter of the Eevolution.' It made her 
 heroic in character, and left her liberal in her 
 pohtical opinions, and unchanged in her moral 
 convictions.
 
 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATIOI\\ 
 
 Madame Necker's System of Education — Rousseau's Theory — Anec- 
 dotes of the Childhood of Mademoiselle Necker — Bonstetten — 
 Raynal — Mademoiselle Necker in the Salon — Her first Literary 
 Compositions — Grimm's Account of one — Morhid Effect of her Pre- 
 cocity — Necker's Resignation of Office — Tronchin's Prescription 
 for his Daughter — Iler Emancipation — Love for her Father — Her 
 Mother — Madame de Genlis. 
 
 Madame Necker early perceived the extraordi- 
 nary mental capacity of her child, but could not 
 so readily appreciate those susceptibilities of genius 
 — the deep and varied and sometimes anomalous 
 sensibilities — ^which distinguished her from other 
 children. She set herself to work, not merely to 
 subdue, but to extinguish them, as dangerous in- 
 dications, though they were but the overflowings 
 of tliat imaginative and moral vitahty which after- 
 wards matured into the richest quahties of her 
 transcendent womanhood and talents. 
 
 The mother, trained to be an instructor, had 
 her own theory of education, and it was the worst 
 possible one for her peculiarly gifted daughter — 
 who was, in fact, a beautiful but incomprehensible 
 marvel to her. Madame Necker's rehgious nature
 
 II. 
 
 Her Education. 33 
 
 had led her to repel Rousseau's educational system, 
 which was founded on an abuse of Locke's philo- 
 sophy, then common among French thinkers ; and 
 which taught that, as our ideas, in their primary 
 forms, are all received through the senses, the first 
 task of the educator should be the training: of the 
 faculties of perception and observation, if we would 
 procure an intellectual and moral develojDment, 
 not irregular, unhealthy, and illusory. To Madame 
 Necker, Eousseau's theory was materialistic : ' she 
 took therefore,' says Madame Necker de Saussure 
 (herself one of the best authorities on education), 
 ' the contrary route, and wished to act immediately 
 on the mind by the mind ; she believed it necessary 
 to fill the young head with a great quantity of 
 ideas, persuaded that the intellect becomes indolent 
 without this labour of the memory.' ^ It was the 
 * cramming system ' — not the education (educing) 
 of the faculties ; and if, as Madame Necker de 
 
 ^ Notice, on the character and writings of Madame de Stael 
 (CEuvres completes, tome i.), a work to Avhich we are indebted for 
 most of our data respecting the early life of her cousin. George 
 Ticknor, the American scholar, says (imder date of Geneva, Sept. 
 19, 1817), 'I passed a couple of hom-s with Madame Xecker de 
 Saussure, a cousin of Madame de Stael, who is considered in Geneva 
 but little her inferior in original power of mind, and of whom Madame 
 de Stael said, " My cousin has all the talents that I am supposed to 
 have, and all the virtues that I have not." She is about fifty, and 
 resembles Madame de Stael a little, and is interesting in conversation 
 from a certain dignity and force in her remarks. She has published a 
 work, in three volumes, On Progressive Education Szc, v;hich for 
 wisdom, delicacy of discernment, and acute observation, is superior 
 to any study of the subject of the time.' Ticknor "s Life &c. i. 7 
 (2 vols.). Boston, 1876. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 Madajne de Stael. ch. 
 
 Saussure thinks, it did not actually injure the 
 child, ' relatively to the development of thought,' 
 she was saved only by the uncontrollable vigour 
 and self-assertion of her genius. The same autho- 
 rity assures us that, notwithstanding the rare excel- 
 lences of Madame Necker, ' the charms of child- 
 hood had little power over her ; she had subdued 
 and disciphned her own nature too much to have 
 preserved the freshness of her instincts. She could 
 only love what she could admire ; and a tenderness 
 founded in presentiment and imagination was some- 
 what foreign to her mind. Gratitude was to her 
 the first of ties ; she had, in consequence, cherished 
 her father ; and this exalted fihal love, wliich 
 appears Hke a distinctive characteristic of the 
 family, had always been active in her. God, her 
 parents and her husband, whom she adored also as 
 her benefactor, had been the only objects of her 
 ardent affections. Nevertheless she undertook the 
 education of her daughter with a fervent zeal in- 
 spired by the sense of duty,' But the ' sense of 
 duty,' however noble in the less intimate relations 
 of hfe, becomes almost ignoble when, in the rela- 
 tions of a mother to her child, it takes the place of 
 maternal instinct. ■ 
 
 Madame Necker's rigour oppressed her daugh- 
 ter. Her daily, her hourly hfe was under rule, 
 her sports were restrained, her attitudes regulated, 
 her studies severely mechanical. But her ardent 
 nature was ever spontaneously breaking away from
 
 Anecdotes. 35 
 
 this bondage, so foreign to its instincts. She was 
 full of gaiety, of abandon^ of frankness, of affec- 
 tionate impulses, of the love of dramatic effects — 
 not to say dramatic tricks. Marmontel says that 
 
 * she was at times an amiable little mischief-maker.' 
 Eonstetten, in later years her admiring correspon- 
 dent, says that, as he was walking alone in Necker's 
 garden, he was rudely struck from behind a tree 
 with a switch ; turning to resent the blow, he saw 
 the child, then five or six years old, gleefully 
 wielding the stick. 'Mamma,' she exclaimed, 
 
 * wishes me to learn to use my left hand, and you 
 see I am trying to do so.' '^ ' She stood in great awe 
 of her mother,' writes Simond, the traveller, who 
 knew her from her infancy, ' but was exceedingly 
 famihar with and extravagantly fond of her father. 
 Madame Necker had no sooner left the room, one 
 day, after dinner, than the young girl, till then 
 timidly decorous, suddenly seized her napkin, and 
 tlirew it across the table at the head of her father, 
 and then, flying round to him, hung upon his 
 neck, suffocating all his reproofs by her kisses.' 
 This was nature, rude yet rudely beautiful. Eon- 
 stetten tells the story with some variations. Accor- 
 ding to him, she fairly drew Necker into a dance 
 around the table, and was arrested only by sounds 
 of the returning steps of her mother, when they 
 
 ''■ Simond's Voyage en Suisse. Paris, 1822, 
 j> 2
 
 36 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 resumed their seats at the board with the utmo&t 
 sobriety.^ 
 
 Never has paternal or fihal love been stronger, 
 down even to the grave, than between Necker and 
 his daughter. The caresses of the father encour- 
 aged the child to act, and especially to speak, Avith 
 a freedom quite contrary to the severe notions of 
 the mother ; and, says Madame Necker de Saus- 
 sure, ' the applause which the salHes of her humour 
 called forth inspired her continually to indulge it 
 in new ways, and already she responded to the 
 pleasantries of Necker with the mingled gaiety and 
 affection which characterised all her later relations 
 with him. The desire to give pleasure to her 
 parents was an extremely active motive of her 
 affectionate nature. For example, at the age of 
 ten years, observing their great admiration for 
 Gibbon, she imagined it to be her duty to marry 
 him, in order that they might enjoy constantly his 
 conversation.' She made seriously tlie proposition 
 to her mother, in spite of the grotesque corpulence 
 of the historian, the ' ugliest man of the United 
 Kingdom.'^ Notwithstanding tliese childish sim- 
 
 ^ Charles- Victor de Bmistetten : Etude Biographique et Litteraire, 
 par A. Steinlen. Lausanne, 1860. 
 
 ■^ Gibton was hardly five feet in height, but in revenge of his 
 short stature nature gave him an almost spherical shape ; he could 
 not have been less than ten feet in girth, as M. de Bievre remarked. 
 ' "When I need exercise,' said De Bievre, ' I make three times the tour 
 of M. Gibbon.' His physique was a burlesque on humanity. While in 
 Lausanne he became amorous of Madame de Crauzas, afterwards 
 Madame de Montolieu, and declared his love. His figure, kneeling
 
 II. 
 
 He7^ Childhood. 37 
 
 plicities, Madame Necker de Saiissiire says she ' lias 
 seemed always young, yet never a child. In all 
 that has been recounted to me about her early life, 
 I remember but one trait which bears the charac- 
 ter of childhood, and even this showed the dawn 
 of intellect. She amused herself by making paper 
 kings and queens, and setting them to act scenes 
 of an improvised tragedy. Wlien this entertain- 
 ment was prohibited by her scrupulous mother, she 
 would conceal herself in order to enjoy it. To 
 this early amusement was attributed the only sin- 
 gular habit she ever had, that of twisting a bit of 
 paper, or a leaf, between her fingers.' 
 
 In her tenth year she was exceedingly attrac- 
 tive. Her natural gaiety was extreme, though at 
 times touched by that poetic melancholy which 
 ever after tinged her soul. Her manners, especially 
 when reheved of the restraints of her mother's 
 presence, were the simple outbursts of her natural 
 sensibihties and frankness. She was fascinating to 
 many of the thinkers who frequented her mother's 
 
 before her, was so ludicrously grotesque, that she could not repress 
 her smiles. At last she exclaimed, ' Do, Monsieur, do rise, and sajno 
 more.' ' Alas ! Madame,' he replied, ' I cannot.' ' What ! ' she rejoined, 
 * can you not get up ? ' In fine, he was so enormous that, even with 
 the aid of Madame de Crauzas, he could not rise ; she had to call a 
 valet de chamhre to replace him on his legs. Duchesse d'Abrantes' 
 Hist, des Salons de Pai-is, tome ii. Paris, 1837. The English jjMIo- 
 sophes generally made awkward figures in the French society of 
 these times. Hume's grim pleasantries are well known. Gibbon's 
 etateliness was anything but French. Franklin's unaffected simplicity, 
 nevertheless, made him a favourite in the most fashionable circles, 
 «xcept in his occasional taciturn moods.
 
 38 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 salon, and could foresee the luxuriant genius and 
 beauty with which her nature was already unfold- 
 ing. The Abbe Eaynal, the 'Historian of the 
 Indies,' holding her little hand in both of his, 
 would prolong her conversation with wondering 
 interest. Her impromptu remarks already flashed 
 with somewhat of the Hght with which her con- 
 versation, in later years, illuminated the best 
 circles of Paris, Coppet, Weimar, Berhn, Vienna, 
 St. Petersburg and London. She was a brunette, 
 her countenance shone with animation, and her 
 ' great black eyes were dazzhng with intelhgence 
 and kindliness.' 
 
 Her parents were fortunate in procuring for 
 her a household companion in Mademoiselle 
 Huber (of the distinguished Genevese family of 
 that name), afterwards Madame Eilhet-Huber, who 
 now became, and ever remained, one of her dear- 
 est friends.^ Mademoiselle Huber has recorded 
 her first interview witli the brilliant young girl, 
 the ' transports ' with which she received her as 
 her habitual associate, and the promises she made 
 ' eternally to cherish her friendship.' ' She spoke 
 
 ^ George Ticknor says, under date of Geneva, Sept. 10, 1817: 
 * This evening I passed at Madame Rilliet's, to whom the Duchesse de 
 Broglie gave me a letter. She was a particular friend of Madame 
 de Stael's, and is a lady of large fortune, much talent, and elegant 
 manners. Benjamin Constant said of her, with that kind of wit 
 peculiar to the French, and which he possessed heyond any Frencliman 
 I met in Paris, " Madame Rilliet has all the virtues which she affects," 
 for there is a certain stateliness and pretension in her manners that 
 remind you of affectation.' — Life kc. of Ticknor, i. 7.
 
 II. Mademoiselle Huber. 39 
 
 to me with an ardour and fluency which made her 
 already eloquent, and greatly struck me. We did 
 not play as children ; she immediately asked what 
 were my lessons ? If I knew any foreign lan- 
 guages ? If I ever went to the theatre ? When I 
 rephed that I had been there three or four times, 
 she broke forth in exclamations of delight, and 
 promised me that we should frequently go there 
 together, adding that, on our return, it would be 
 necessary to write out the subjects of the pieces, 
 especially those parts which had most interested 
 us ; that this was her habit. " And then," she ex- 
 claimed, " we shall write every morning." We 
 entered the aalon ; by the side of the arm-chair 
 of Madame Necker was a little wooden seat, 
 where she had to sit, obhged to hold herself erect, 
 without support. Scarcely had she taken her 
 place, when three or four venerable personages 
 approached her, speaking to her with the kindliest 
 interest. One of them, who wore a small round 
 perruque, detained her in a long conversation, talk- 
 ing with her as to a person of twenty-five years. 
 This was the Abbe Eaynal ; the others were, Mar- 
 montel, Thomas, the Marquis of Pesay, and Baron 
 Grimm. We were called to the table ; it was a 
 wonder to see how she listened there. She spoke 
 not a word, but seemed to share in all the discus- 
 sions by the vivid and varying expression of her 
 features. Her eyes followed the looks and move- 
 ments of each speaker. You could see that she
 
 40 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 anticipated his ideas. All topics were familiar to 
 lier, even those of politics, which were already 
 among the chief subjects of interest in the Parisian 
 salons. After dinner many more guests arrived. 
 Each, in approaching Madame Necker, had some- 
 thing to say to her daughter — a comphment or a 
 pleasantry. She always responded, not only with 
 ease, but with grace. Some would entertain them- 
 selves in trying to embarrass her, or to excite 
 the young imagination which already displayed so 
 much brilhancy. The men who were most dis- 
 tinguished by their talents were those who hov- 
 ered most about her, prompting her conversation. 
 They inquired about the books she was reading, 
 reported new ones to her, and inspired her love of 
 study by discussing with her what she knew and 
 what she did not know.' 
 
 The severity of Madame Necker's domestic 
 rule was by this time so far relaxed as to allow 
 more indulgence to her child's dramatic tastes. 
 Minor or ' domestic theatricals ' were even admitted 
 among the entertainments of her villa at St. Ouen, 
 as we have seen in the citations from Madame du 
 Deffand. Among her daughter's earliest literary 
 essays were attempts at dramatic composition. 
 She had shown extraordinary talent in the Por- 
 traits, Characters and Eloges, which were a sort 
 of social literary recreation of the day. Grimm 
 had sent examples to his princely correspondents, 
 in various parts of Europe, as marvels of intel-
 
 First Writings. 41 
 
 lectual precocity. He now wrote them an account 
 of a drama, produced in her twelfth year, and acted 
 by her and her young companions in the draw- 
 ing-room at St. Ouen. ' While Necker,' he says, 
 ' covers himself with glory in the government, and 
 renders himself eternally dear to France, and his 
 wife devotes herself to her charitable hospital in 
 the parish of St. Sulpice, their young daughter, 
 who has evinced extraordinary talents, amuses her- 
 self by writing small comedies, after the manner 
 of the semi-dramas of M. St. Marck. She has just 
 completed one, in two acts, entitled " The Incon- 
 veniences of Life in Paris," which is superior to her 
 models, and astonishing for her years. Its char- 
 acters' are well dehneated, its scenes well adjusted, 
 and the unfolding of its plot is natural and fuU of 
 interest.' He adds that Marmontel, who was ever 
 enthusiastic for the daughter, though he could never 
 appreciate the mother, was affected even to tears 
 on seeing this juvenile performance at St. Ouen.^ 
 
 At fifteen years of age her faculties, if not her 
 style, showed the maturity usual with cultivated 
 minds at twenty-five. In 1781, when Necker's 
 * Compte Eendu ' first appeared, exciting all France, 
 
 ^ Grimm's CmTespondance , 1778. Many allusious to the Necker 
 family, and several letters from them, are scattered thi'ough this 
 curious collection — a work almost as important for the history of 
 France in the eighteenth century as the Memoires of St. Simou are 
 for the preceding age. Grimm and Diderot's Correspondance (15 
 vols.), Paris, 1829-31 ; and Correspmdance medite (8 vols.), Paris, 
 1829.
 
 42 Madame de Stael. ch.. 
 
 she, proud of his trhimph in his defeat, wrote him 
 an anonymous letter of such remarkable ability 
 that he recognised its authorship by its talent. 
 Her genius had already its stamp/ At this early 
 age she had mastered some of the profoundest 
 works of French literature, studying, not merely 
 reading them. She had made ample extracts from 
 Montesquieu's ' Spirit of Laws,' and had commented 
 on them with her own acute reflections. Raynal, 
 then rejoicing in the extraordinary but temporary 
 fame of his ' Histoire Philosophique,' sohcited her 
 to contribute to one of his works an essay which 
 she had written on the Eevocation of the Edict of 
 Nantes. Necker himself discouraged these prema- 
 ture efibrts ; but the training to which she had 
 been addicted by the system of her mother, her 
 elaborate though versatile studies, her participation 
 in the discussions of the salon, and in the perform- 
 ances and criticism of the ' domestic theatricals,' 
 could not fail to prompt her faculties beyond their 
 normal and healthful growth. Everything about 
 her ministered to her intellectual life. ' Her 
 pleasures as well as her duties,' says Madame 
 Necker de Saussure, ' were all exercises of her 
 mind. Her mental faculties, naturally energetic, 
 underwent thus a prodigious expansion.' The 
 wonder is that they became not as prodigiously 
 morbid. Nothing but her native vivacity — the na- 
 tional temperament whicli she so abundantly shared 
 
 ^ Philarete Ohasles, Nouudle Biographic Generale, tome xliv.
 
 II. 
 
 Early Character. 43 
 
 — could have saved her from the worst effects of 
 such mental excesses. Thoroughly French as she 
 was, in the fiexibihty and elasticity of her nature, 
 her sensibihties nevertheless began to suffer by this 
 unintermitted tension of her intellect, and we may 
 trace to this period that poignant sensitiveness to 
 the miseries of human life, that ever-recurring 
 strain of sadness, which characterise nearly all her 
 writings, and which, in spite of wealth, fame, talent, 
 travel, ' troops of friends,' and a career splendidly 
 successful in most respects, rendered her hfe a con- 
 tinuous scene of restlessness, if not of melancholy, 
 and led her to say on her death-bed, that but one 
 of the capabiUties of her nature had been developed 
 to its utmost, the capability of suffering.^ Her 
 cousin remarks that her sensibihties were, at this 
 early period, as excessively developed as her mind, 
 so that the praises which she heard given to her 
 parents would melt her to tears. ' That which 
 amused her,' says her companion. Mademoiselle 
 Huber, ' was that which made her weep.' Her 
 attachment to Mademoiselle Huber became a sort 
 of passion. The presence of celebrated persons 
 would make her heart palpitate. Her reading, 
 wliich Madame Necker, more severe than vigilant, 
 did not always prescribe, often produced on her 
 extraordinary impressions ; years later she said 
 that Eichardson's description of tlie carrying off of 
 
 ^ Chateaubriand's Memoires d' Outre-Tombe, tome viii. (12 vols.). 
 Paris, 1849.
 
 44 Madame de Stacl, ch. 
 
 Clarissa made an epoch in her young Hfe. Her 
 faculties, of mind as well as body, began to yield 
 under this excessive stimulation. Lonss; sustained 
 attention was ever afterwards difficult to her ; and 
 the success with which she always seemed to master 
 elaborate intellectual tasks was more the effect of 
 genius than of continuous labour. ' A singular 
 sagacity bore her to a distant end, without your 
 seeing her on the route.' 
 
 Her father's relations with the Court, about this 
 time, particularly the events which prompted her 
 anonymous letter to him, exasperated the excite- 
 ment which was preying upon her health. Her 
 extreme filial sympathy made his anxieties her own ; 
 and now fell upon the family a greater affliction 
 than any which had thus far marred its prosperity. 
 Though Necker was not formally ' dismissed,' he 
 was forced by his enemies to retire from office. 
 During five years he had administered the finances 
 Avith a success unapproached by his predecessors 
 for years. It would be irrelevant to discuss here 
 the principles of his policy, his disputes with the 
 economists at a period when pohtical economy was 
 yet mostly undefined as a science ; his alterca- 
 tions with Turgot, the ostensible representative of 
 its principles in the government. Partisans have 
 applauded or disparaged him, according to their 
 partialities for antagonistic theories ; but his ad- 
 ministration was at a time, and amidst exigencies, 
 which should, in our day at least, relieve him from
 
 II. Neckers Policy. 45 
 
 such criticism, Necker was a practical mau, and 
 he attemj^ted practically to grapple with the diffi- 
 culties which had overwhelmed his predecessors. 
 His great personal credit enabled him to command 
 loans for the government which perhaps no other 
 man in the realm could have obtained ; and he re- 
 trenched expenses on every hand. More than six 
 hundred unnecessary charges on the Treasury were 
 cut off. The policy of loans — in our day the pohcy 
 of States generally — is inherently fallacious, and 
 can be safe only when based on economical re- 
 trenchments, and the prospective creation of new 
 resources. Necker's scheme comprised these con- 
 ditions. It was the only conceivable policy. That 
 it failed is attributable, not so nuich to his lack of 
 talent, as to the invinc^ible vices of the govermnent 
 and of the times. Other experiments were made, by 
 the frequent change of the financial administration, 
 but they were all failures, and worse than failures. 
 He had to be called in repeatedly to reheve them. 
 But his stringent reforms had raised up enemies all 
 around him. His position in the court was liardly 
 tolerable ; he had but a quahfied title as Mnister, 
 and was not admitted to the Eoyal Council, for his 
 rehgion was in the way. He saw that he could not 
 have the power necessary for his measures, unless 
 he were reheved of these disabihties. Full powers 
 were offered him if he would abjure his Protestant 
 fiiith. He refused to do so. He retired from office 
 with the maledictions of most of the nobihty, but
 
 46 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 with the benedictions of the suffering people. He 
 had effectively, though not permanently, relieved 
 the national finances. He had incurred the hostil- 
 ity of his aristocratic enemies by cutting off sinecures 
 and superfluous pensions, and by reducing excessive 
 salaries. He had accepted no compensation for his 
 services ; had given no office to his kindred or 
 personal friends.^ He had advanced two millions 
 of his own money, as a loan to the government, 
 which was not repaid during his life, and was 
 recovered by his daughter only after the downfall 
 of Napoleon. His ' Compte Eendu au Eoi ' was his 
 vindication. In that famous work he gave a 
 complete account, to the Kjng, of the financial dis- 
 orders of the country. It was a bombshell thrown 
 into the Court, and the explosion that followed 
 resounded throughout the kingdom and over all 
 Europe. No such report on the administration of 
 the finances had ever been made. The country 
 had been kept ignorant of this, one of its most vital 
 interests. Its kings themselves had been habitually 
 deceived regarding it. The nation had been reefing 
 on the verge of hopeless bankruptcy ; Necker alone 
 had thus far prevented its precipitation into the 
 abyss. The Eevolution was inevitable, though few 
 then perceived either its proximity or its terrible 
 significance. His work on the ' Administration des 
 Finances,' a sort of reproduction and justification 
 
 ^ Louis Blanc, Hid. de la Revolution Frangaise, ii. 66 (12 vols.). 
 Paris, 1847.
 
 II, Mademoiselle Necker, 47 
 
 of the ' Compte Eendu,' deepened and widened 
 immeasurably the impression of the latter. Eighty 
 thousand copies were quickly sold, six thousand on 
 the' day of its publication, besides a simultaneous 
 edition in England. The people were maddened by 
 discovering how their debauched rulers had been 
 for years wasting their resources. Necker showed 
 that twenty-five milhons of francs were yearly 
 thrown away on useless or licentious gratifications 
 and pensions ; that the collectors received more 
 than one-fifth of all the revenue ; and that nearly 
 all the national institutions of charity and penal 
 reform were mismanaged — the prisons, hospitals, 
 asylums. In many of these, six invahds slept in 
 the same bed, and sometimes the slightly attacked 
 patient found himself with a dying man on one side 
 and a dead one on the other. ^ Necker proudly 
 alluded to his wife's good work in hospital reform. 
 She had not frequented the Court, though she 
 received some of the courtly ladies at her salon ; 
 the depravity which still lingered from the Regency 
 and from the reign of Louis XV. about the royal 
 precincts was a sufficient reason to keep her away, 
 though Louis XVI. had soHcited her presence, and 
 Necker had mentioned only her feeble health as 
 the reason of her absence. She appeared now, like 
 himself, as a true friend of the people amidst the 
 immense crew of courtly and official depredators 
 
 ^ De Tocqueville's Coup-d'ostl sur le Rkgne de Louis XVI. cliap. ii. 
 Paris, n. d.
 
 48 Madame de Sta'cL ch. 
 
 on the public resources. They were outraged. 
 What right had this untitled foreigner, this Protes- 
 tant heretic, to invade their luxurious places, and 
 abridge their revenues ? What a national disgrace 
 tliat this ' Swiss schoolmistress ' (for so they called 
 his wife) should be able to hold up her pedantic 
 head, pre-eminent above the aristocratic, free-hving 
 ladies of the court, the daughters of the old noble 
 famihes of France? Pampered, infatuated para- 
 sites of power, they knew not that they were refus- 
 ing the only help which could mitigate their coming 
 fate — a fate which was soon to sweep them from 
 the face of their country and shake to its founda- 
 tions the whole civil and ecclesiastical world of 
 Europe. 
 
 decker's daughter observed his anxious preoc- 
 cupation, notwithstanding his seeming tranquiUity. 
 The evening before his resignation he accompanied 
 her and her mother to the hos23ital of Madame 
 Necker in the parish of St. Sulpice. ' He was in 
 the habit of going to this asylum,' she writes, ' to 
 take fresh courage against the cruel difficulties of his 
 situation. The Sisters of Charity, who had charge 
 of the place, loved him and Madame Necker, not- 
 withstanding they were Protestants, and welcomed 
 them now with flowers and the chanting of verses 
 from the Psalms, the only poetry they knew. They 
 called them their own benefactors, because they 
 succoured the poor. My father this day was deeply 
 affected, more so, I remember well, than ever he
 
 II. Meckel's Resignation. 49 
 
 had appeared to be by similar testimonies of grati- 
 tude. Without doubt he regretted the power to 
 serve France which he was about to lose. Alas ! 
 who at that time could have supposed that this 
 man would one day be accused of hardness of 
 heart, of pride, of arrogance ? Never a soul more 
 pure has traversed the region of storms ; and his 
 enemies, in calumniating him, committed an im- 
 piety ; for the heart of a good man is the sanctuary 
 of God in this world.' ^ The next day he returned 
 from Versailles no long;er JMinister. 
 
 Necker retired to his country seat at St. 
 Ouen with the sympathies and applause of the 
 nation. Not a few of the higher classes, able to 
 appreciate him — the Prince of Conde, the Dukes 
 of Orleans and of Ghartres, the Prince of Beauvais, 
 the Duke of Luxembourg, the Archbishop of Paris, 
 and, above all, the Hterary men of the Necker 
 aalon — hastened to visit and sustain him there. ^ 
 Such moral support was grateful to his heart, but 
 assuredly not more so than the sympathy of his 
 
 ''■ Considerations sur la Revolution Franqaise, i. 8 : CEuvres completes, 
 tomeiii. Paris, 1861. 
 
 ^ Marmontel was one of tlie most eager to proffer his doubtful 
 sympatliies. lie hastened to St. Ouen before the family arrived ; 
 then hastened back, and meeting them on the road, mounted their 
 carriage, and accompanied them to the house, not without something 
 like relentings towards Madame Necker. ' I had always,' he says, 
 ' for her the most sincere veneration, for I had seen in her only kindness 
 and wisdom and virtue ; and the particular aflection with which she 
 had honoured me weU merited that I should share the sorrow which 
 I doubted not deeply affected her.' — Mnnoires &c. 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 devoted daughter, expressed in the anonymous 
 letter, the authorship of which he had identified by 
 indications the most consoling that could touch a 
 father's affections — its proofs of the superior in- 
 tellect and overflowinfy heart of his child. Ag;ita- 
 tin£f as these circumstances were to her sensitive 
 nature, she was cheered by the demonstrations 
 of almost universal regard for him which she 
 witnessed at St. Ouen. 'All France,' she writes, 
 ' seemed anxious to visit him ; the great nobles, 
 the clergy, the magistrates, the merchants, the men 
 of letters. He received upwards of five hiuidred 
 letters of sympathy from towns and provincial 
 corporations, expressing a respect and affection 
 surpassing any ever received before by any public 
 man of France.' 'There was,' says Grimm, 'for 
 some days a continual procession of carriages on 
 the two leagues of road from Paris to St. Ouen. 
 Never has a Minister borne in his retreat a purer 
 fame.' Meanwhile all Paris was struck by the 
 event. ' Consternation,' adds Grimm, ' was painted 
 on all faces. The promenades, the cafes, all public 
 places, were crowded, but everywhere an extra- 
 ordinary silence reigned. The people gazed at one 
 another, and pressed one another's hands sadly as 
 in view of a coming public calamity.' ^ It was the 
 murmuring lull that precedes tlie tempest. 
 
 Before these exciting events tlie health of Ma- 
 demoiselle Necker had seriously declined, and had 
 
 ^ Corresiiondance &c., 1781.
 
 II. 
 
 Tronchin. 5 1 
 
 added miicli to her father's anxieties. Tronchin, 
 of Geneva, an old friend of the Necker family, was 
 the medical oracle of the day ; his removal to 
 Paris, as physician to the House of Orleans, pro- 
 duced a sensation in fashionable circles, among 
 Avhicli ennui and the ' vapours ' prevailed as 
 epidemics, in spite, if not in consequence, of the 
 frivohty and licence of the times ; and his prescrip- 
 tion of fresh air and early walks for the ' great 
 dames ' of the city had led to the adoption of a 
 convenient walking dress which bore his name. 
 Fortunately he was at hand to save the child of his 
 old friend ; and his authority was too great with 
 Madame Necker, as with all her feminine associ- 
 ates, to be countervailed by her prejudices for her 
 favourite theory of education. He prescribed no 
 medicine for the young invalid ; for he avoided 
 drugs as much as possible in his practice ; and it 
 was a maxim with him that ' jDositive sins in 
 medicine are mortal, while negative ones are 
 venial.' He saw at a glance the fatal tendency of 
 Madame Necker's system, in a case of such pre- 
 cocious development, such superabundant power 
 and sensibility. He ordered its immediate and 
 total suspension. All serious studies must be laid 
 aside. The child must be allowed to grow, for 
 some time at least, spontaneously, in mind as well 
 as in body, in the open air, amidst the landscapes 
 of St. Ouen. Never was prescription more accept- 
 able to an invahd ; her native vivacity burst into 
 
 E 2
 
 5 2 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 full liberty. The caged bird, let loose, took to 
 wins' tliroiio'h the surrounding? oToves and meadows. 
 Accompanied by her young companion, Mademoi- 
 selle Huber, she exulted in her freedom, and 
 roamed from morning till night. Madame Necker 
 de Saussure (who, for many years, was more her 
 sister than her cousin) believed that this rural 
 freedom and gaiety had the happiest effect, not 
 only on the health, but on the genius of the young 
 girl.^ It was a period of Hving, pastoral poetry 
 in her life, hitherto cramped by mechanical habits 
 of study and the social artificiahties of Paris. It 
 was precisely what such a mind needed. Her 
 imagination, so splendid in its later disciphned 
 power, and one of the richest charms of her works, 
 now flowered healthfully amidst natural scenes. 
 Her remarkable faculty of picturesque description 
 was developed. Her sensibilities, tending to morbid 
 sentimentahsm, and never afterwards entirely ex- 
 empt from a tinge of melancholy, were placed in 
 better harmony with her vigorous powers of reflec- 
 tion and reason — a harmony by which was at last 
 attained the chief distinction of her intellectual 
 character, her almost anomalous union of senti- 
 ment and thought, of enthusiasm and reflection, of 
 the heart of woman with the head of man. ' This 
 liberty accorded to her mind,' says her cousin, 
 ' enabled it to take its best flight. The two young 
 girls, running at large in the woods of St, Ouen, 
 
 Notice &c.
 
 II. 
 
 Filial Affection. 53 
 
 clothed as nymphs or muses, declamied verses, 
 composed poems, made dramas of every sort, which 
 tliey hnmediately represented.' The impression of 
 such a happy season in early Hfe never fades away ; 
 it Hngers a ' thing of beauty,' an azure and radiant 
 interval of sky, in the darkest storms of later life. 
 
 Her cousin tells us that the heart of the grate- 
 ful girl turned now, in her emancipation, more 
 than ever towards her father. She ' seized the least 
 occasion of approaching him, and found extraor- 
 dinary pleasure and advantage in his conversation. 
 He was surprised, more and more each day, by her 
 remarkable intellect, and never was that intellect 
 more charming than when near him.' Her quick 
 fihal sympatliy perceived his need of amusement 
 and distraction in his trials and the literary labours 
 he now began on his 'Administration of the Fi- 
 nances,' and his ' Importance of Keligious Opinions.' 
 She attempted to ' cheer him in a thousand ways ; 
 she would risk anything to obtain from Jiim a 
 smile.' She would beguile his occasional hours of 
 leisure, at St. Ouen, by leading him to narrate to 
 her his early hfe, especially the twenty years he 
 spent in Paris, before his marriage, strugghng with 
 fortune. A quarter of a century later, when he 
 was in his grave, she Avrites of the ' profound effect ' 
 on her young heart which this story, of labour and 
 almost ascetic self-denial, produced ; ' the story of 
 that period,' she says, ' in which I could only 
 imagine him as so young, so lovable, and so
 
 54 Madame de Sfacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 lonely, — that time in which, perhaps, our destinies 
 would have united us for ever, if fate had only- 
 made us contemporaries.' ^ Strange fancy of filial 
 love ! Her affection for him became a passion, the 
 strongest that ever swayed her heart ; her rever- 
 ence, a worship, an idolatry, which lasted through 
 his life, and wept at his tomb till she herself was 
 laid there by his side. Meanwhile Necker, grate- 
 fully admiring her mental superiority, did not en- 
 danger her by fond flatteries ; ' his looks were more 
 encouraging than his words.' ' He habitually cor- 
 rected her faults by a gentle raillery which was not 
 without its charm ; no exaggeration, no inaptitude 
 of any kind escaped his attention.' He knew the 
 liabihties of such a luxuriant nature, and his very 
 parental pride led him to prune it, and make the 
 most of it. ' I owe,' she frequently said late in 
 life, ' to the incredible penetration of my father 
 the frankness of my character, and the naturalness 
 of my mind. He unmasked all affectations, and I 
 received from him the habit of believing that my 
 heart was clearly seen.' One of the most charming 
 quahties of her womanly character was derived 
 from this treatment — perfect sincerity, a childlike 
 frankness in conversation, and in all her conduct, 
 which, as it left nothing disguised, allowed not 
 only her fjiults, but all the riches of her heart and 
 faculties to be seen and, tlierefore, appreciated. 
 
 '^ Caructere de M. Necker et sa Vie privee : GJluvres cotnpletes, tome 
 ii. Paris, 1861.
 
 n. Mother and D might er. 55 
 
 A singular elfect, more curious, however, than 
 serious, attended this extraordinary sympathy be- 
 tween the father and daughter. It led to some- 
 thing very like jealousy between the child and the 
 mother. Necker must have been a man of sur- 
 ])assing fascination in domestic Hfe ; his wife and 
 daughter seemed emulous of each other, not only 
 in affection, but in a species of adoration for him. 
 It may perhaps be soberly said that there is no 
 record of intenser admiration and love, of woman 
 for man, than Madame Necker has left in her 
 ' Melanges ' and letters ; no record of intenser love 
 and reverence of a child for a father, than Madame 
 de Stael has left in her ' Notice ' prefixed to his 
 ' Manuscrits.' '^ They became rivals in an affec- 
 tion so superabundant that it could not escape the 
 infirmities of human nature. The mother seemed 
 to fear that her child, inheriting her own remark- 
 able faculties and deep sensibilities, might take 
 her place in the heart of her husband ; or, as 
 Madame Necker de Saussure says, ' allow her to be 
 loved by him only in her daughter.' The latter, 
 after the death of both her parents, could not 
 allude to this affectionate rivalry without com- 
 mending and yet envying her mother. ' He chose,' 
 she says, ' for his wife a woman of perfect virtue, 
 and of extremely cultivated mind. From the 
 
 ' Madame Necker's ' Porh-ait ' of him, Melanges, vol. ii. ; and her 
 posthumous letters to him, given in the Introduction to his (Euvres, 
 p. 327 ; Madame de Stael's 'Notice/ introductory to his Manuscrits.
 
 56 Madmne de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 moment of their marriage to her death the thought 
 of my mother dominated his life. He was not, hke 
 other men in j^ower, attentive to her by occa- 
 sional tokens of regard ; but by continual expres- 
 sions of most tender and most delicate sentiment. 
 My mother, whose affections were passionate, would 
 otherwise have been unhappy. God spared her 
 the affliction of surviving him. Peace to her ashes 
 — she deserved more than I to be happy.' Her 
 own affection for him, like all love when it becomes 
 passion, could never be contented. ' The difference 
 of our ages,' she said, at his death, ' often troubled 
 my happiness during the time I possessed him ; 
 and now, if he could be restored to me, I would 
 give all my remaining years for six months ; ' and 
 she broke out with passionate self-upbraidings, as 
 if under remorse for not lavishing upon him more 
 affectionate attentions. 
 
 Meanwhile she never forgot her filial duty to 
 her mother. She admired her rare talents and 
 pure character, notwithstanding the disparity of 
 their tastes. In mature life slie remarked to Ma- 
 dame Necker de Saussure, ' The longer I live, the 
 more I understand my mother, and tlie more my 
 heart feels the need of her.' This good authority 
 assures us that ' the extreme sweetness of the 
 character of Mademoiselle Necker was always 
 manifest when her mother addressed to her any 
 reproaches. Her respect for her was always pro- 
 found and declared. Endowed from childhood
 
 n. Madame de Genlis. 5 7 
 
 with a rare power of apt and vivid repartee, slie 
 never said a word, even on the most trivial occa- 
 sions, which could show her under an unfavour- 
 able aspect.' ^ 
 
 " Still later she spurned with violent indignation the reflections of 
 Madame de Genlis on Madame Necker. This lady, the authoress of the 
 day, had been a guest of the Necker salon, but never a cordial one. 
 (Duchesse d'Abrantes' Histoire &c., tome i.) She afterwards found 
 in Madame de Stael a literary rival whose transcendent success she 
 could not pardon, but pursued her with bitter and harassing criticism, 
 especially during her persecutions by Napoleon. Madame de Stael 
 bore all patiently till the jealous critic attacked the memory of her 
 mother, when, says her cousin, ' she showed the greatest irritation 
 that I ever witnessed in her.' ' Does she imagine,' she exclaimed, 
 ■* that because I do not defend myself, I will not defend my mother ? 
 Let Madame de Genlis attack my works, and my character, as much as 
 she pleases, but not my dead mother, my mother who has only me 
 in the world to take her part. She preferred my father to me, and 
 she had reason, without doubt ; I feel the more that I have her blood 
 in my veins, and so long as this blood runs in them, I will not allow 
 her to be outraged.' She would have appealed to the public, had she 
 not been convinced that any publication of the kind would have been 
 obnoxious to the actual government of France, and would only in- 
 crease its persecutions of her family and friends. Madame de Genlis' 
 attack on Madame Necker was made in her De Tlnjluence ties Femmes 
 sur In Litterature Fran<^aise, Paris, 1811. Neither Madame Necker, 
 nor any of her friends, ever pretended that she belonged to the class of 
 literary women ; her little essay on Divorce was the only production 
 of her pen published during her life ; her Melanges were but fragments 
 published by her husband after her death. Yet of her volume of 
 nearly four hundred pages, Madame de Genlis gives more than one 
 eighth to Madame Necker, more than twice as many as she gives to 
 Madame de la Fayette, five times as many as to jNIadame de Sevigne, 
 six times as many as to Madame Dacier, sixteen times as many as to 
 Madame Riccobini. She gives to her, in tine, more space than to any 
 other character in the A"olume, excepting Madame de Maintenon. 
 The book was apparently published by the malicious old countess for 
 the purpose of disparaging Madame Necker, and afflicting her success- 
 ful daughter. She caricatured the latter in her novel of La Femme
 
 58 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 It was in such cii'cumstauces that the genius 
 and character of the sensitive young girl were 
 developed. Her education was entirely domestic, 
 for she was never sent away to school ; and these 
 circumstances, so early and so stimulating, were 
 among the strongest impidses of her life. They 
 impressed her nature for ever. 
 
 Madame Necker felt no little chagrin at the 
 defeat of her plan for the education of her daugh- 
 ter. In abandoning it now to the control of her 
 husband, she abandoned nearly all hope of the 
 future ' distinction ' of the child. She could not, 
 however, fail to be surprised at her continued and 
 wonderful intellectual growth, and when, at last, 
 she appeared in the literary world, prepared to 
 claim a distinction unrivalled among her sex, the 
 mother's pride could hardly console her for the 
 failure of her original scheme. ' I remember,' 
 writes Madame Necker de Saussure, ' that at the 
 time when the eclat of Madame de Stael's fame was 
 
 Vhilomphe. She endeavoured, years later, according to Saiute-Beuve, to 
 atone for her early malice by her Athena'is, ou le Chateau de Coppet en 
 1807, a romance which is of no authoritj', either for events or charac- 
 ters. She lon.fr survived ^ladanie de Stael, and in 1825 published her 
 Memoires of herself, in ten volumes, in which she again attacks her 
 rival with senile and ridicidous jealousy. See particularly volumes iii. 
 and iv. 'In this work, as in all her other publications, for twenty- 
 five years, she followed only the impulses of her hatred. She seized 
 this occasion to renew her attacks against Madame de Stael. Her 
 judgments on authors and their worlcs are all dictated by the dis- 
 paraging spirit which always giuded lier pen.' — Bioffraphie JJniverseUe, 
 tome xvi.
 
 11, Mademoiselle Nccker. 59 
 
 yet new to me, I expressed to Madame Necker my 
 astonishment at her prodigious distinction. " It is 
 nothing," she responded, " absolutely nothing, com- 
 pared to what I would have made it ! " This 
 answer struck me very much, because it referred 
 only to the qualities of her understanding, and ex- 
 pressed a sincere conviction.'
 
 6o Madmne de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 YOUTH AND EARLY WRITINGS. 
 
 First Travels — Visit to BuiFon — His Egotism — His Riile for Style — 
 Fine Sayings of Madame Necker— Journey to Switzerland — Lake 
 Leman — The South of France — Retirement at Marolles — Early 
 Literary Compositions — Dramas — Fictions — Criticism. 
 
 It was in this period of the retirement of Necker 
 that his daughter had her earhest experience in 
 travel — afterwards so much the habit of her hfe. 
 Her first journey was to Plombieres (the waters of 
 which had been prescribed for the health of her 
 mother),^ and it was particularly interesting to 
 her, as it afforded a visit, at Montbard, to the old 
 friend of the family, the naturalist Buffon, now a 
 sage of seventy -five years, and of European renown 
 not only as a ' scientist ' but as a classic model 
 of French literature. He had been a favourite 
 authority in the Necker salon on questions of 
 literary criticism as well as of science. His 
 celebrated discourse, before the Academy, on 
 ' Style,' had won for him this deference. Sur- 
 rounded by his ' little court ' of admirers and co- 
 workers, he received his guests at Montbard with 
 
 ^ Notice by Baron de Stael : (Euvres de Nechcr, tome i.
 
 III. Buffon. 6 1 
 
 ceremonious attentions, which could not fail to 
 prove irksome to the young girl Avhom he had 
 gaily flattered at her home in Paris, and whose 
 late emancipation in the woods of St. Ouen had 
 unfitted her for dimiified restraints. Instead of 
 rambles among his flowers and birds, she found 
 three grand velvet-covered arm-chairs, elevated 
 in his salon, for herself and her parents ; another, 
 less raised, for himself; and these circled by 
 lower seats for his associates, who were silent 
 listeners to his conversations and discussions with 
 tlie late famous Minister and his accomplished wife 
 and daughter. His guests were amused at the 
 deferential etiquette of the well-meaning patriarch, 
 and endured it patiently, ' rather than afflict an 
 old man,' their ardent friend, by hastening on their 
 way ; for the simphcities of decaying but affec- 
 tionate age, hke those of childhood, have a charm 
 of their own, and though we may regret them, it 
 is usually with a smile. Meanwhile the aspiring girl 
 could hardly fail to learn important precepts, for 
 her own future use, in the conversation of the 
 venerable author. His very egotism made it the 
 more comprehensible and instructive to her. In 
 an elegant studio, a pavihon, so constructed as to 
 exclude all surrounding sights and distractions, 
 lie meditated his picturesque descriptions and 
 polished liis periods, following his well-known 
 maxim that 'Genius is only patience.' 'I trace,' he 
 said, ' a first sketch, and, in doing this, I do what
 
 62 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 a hundred writers in Europe can do. I copy it, 
 and obtain a result which but twenty writers can 
 obtain. I recopy a second and a third time, and 
 thus achieve, at hist, what BufFon alone can do.' 
 Madame Necker, with her notable aptitude for 
 epigrammatic sayings,^ remarks on the simphcity of 
 her old friend, that ' Buffon knows not the world, 
 but he knows the Universe.' But with all her re- 
 spect for him, and in spite of so fine a comphment, 
 she cannot refrain from a sarcasm on his egotism. 
 ' He always says " great men," " people of good 
 taste," &c., using the plural : it is because he sees 
 himself in a mirror which has facets.' 
 
 Much more agreeable must have been their 
 journey, in the summer of 1784, to Switzerland, 
 which ever afterwards seemed to Madame de Stael 
 a sort of native country, for, though she was born, 
 and was to die, in France, in Switzerland were born, 
 and there died, not only her parents, but nearly 
 all her kindred ; there was her dearest asylum in 
 the darkest periods of her hfe ; there was to be 
 her own grave ; and, notwithstanding her tlio- 
 roughly French temperament and the Teutonic 
 element of her blood (so manifest in her more 
 studied works), lier moral nature was distinctively 
 Swiss. 
 
 Crossing the Jura mountains (the geographical, 
 though not the political boundary of France), the 
 first picture of the glorious land lay extended and 
 
 - Iler Melanges are superatundaiitly licli in them.
 
 III. Lake Lcman. 63 
 
 radiant beneath her i>'aze — Lake Leman flashing in 
 t]ie midsummer sun ; the dechvities of the Jura, 
 terraced with vineyards, and studded with thriving 
 hamlets ; Lausanne, on the one liand, with its 
 ancient cathedral ; Geneva, on the other, with the 
 grey towers of St. Peter's, whence had gone forth 
 influences still dominant in the thought of all Pro- 
 testant Christendom. Defining the background of 
 the magnificent picture, the Alps stretched their 
 snow-covered summits along the south, Mont Blanc 
 lifting his head to the heavens sovereign of them all. 
 Far to the left quietly reposed, on the margin of 
 the Lake, Vevey, Clarens, the Castle of Chillon, the 
 rocks of Meillerie, scenes of Eousseau's most power- 
 ful romance — an author whom the young traveller 
 was now, not only reading, but studying, with en- 
 thusiasm, and meditating her first pubhshed book 
 — an essay on his genius and writings — which was 
 soon to surprise the world by reveahng the extra- 
 ordinary though immature luxuriance of her own 
 genius. On the western margin of the lake lay 
 Coppet, with its humble church, its few habitations 
 under the shelter of its spacious chateau, her future 
 Swiss home. 
 
 They now sojourned near Lausanne, in which 
 city Necker was about to publish his ' Administra- 
 tion des Finances.' His wife was suffering seriously 
 from her life-long malady,^ but she was absorbed in 
 cares for the comfort of her husband. Her dauo-h- 
 
 ^ Fragments of her letters, Melanges.
 
 64 Madame dc Stael. ch. 
 
 ter's happiness, she writes, is independent of her 
 maternal attentions, ' she is carried along by the 
 torrent of her pleasures.' Bonstetten visited them 
 at Lausanne, and says, ' I saw there the future 
 Madame de Stael, in all the charms of youth, of 
 intellect, and of coquetr}-.' ^ Madame Necker was 
 now in view of the scenes of her early hfe. Gras- 
 sier looked down upon her. She wrote sadly to 
 her literary friend, Thomas, that, in retracing her 
 old tracks here, she has passed over, in one day, an 
 interval of twenty years. ' I hardly know,' she 
 adds, ' Avh ether the memories I still have are my 
 own, or another's. If my heart did not still chng, 
 in all places, to the objects of my regret and 
 affection, I should beheve my youth a dream, and 
 the present alone a reality. Are not, indeed, the 
 first years of life only passing illusions ? ' And 
 yet this poetic land is God's own temple to her, 
 ' luxuriant nature, mountains green and peopled, 
 their tops touching the sky, a grand lake regahng 
 the eye, scenes upon which one's gaze may wander 
 with rapture. It seems that God has interested 
 himself here more than elsewhere for his creatures, 
 obliging them to lift up their thoughts to himself 
 without ceasing.' 
 
 This tour brought Mademoiselle Necker into 
 more intimate acquaintance with the kindred of the 
 family, now somewhat numerous on the shores 
 of Lake Leman, especially at Geneva, where the 
 
 * BoDstetten's Souvenirs.
 
 III. Afadamc Necker de Satissui^e. 65 
 
 talented daughter of the naturahst De Saussure 
 married, about this time, in her nineteenth year, 
 James Necker, and became afterwards celebrated 
 in hterature as Madame Neclver de Saussure. The 
 friendship of tlie two j^oung women was a hfelong 
 consolation to both ; and Madame Necker de Saus- 
 sure became the best biographer of her cousin. Her 
 own biographer says that ' in these youthful years 
 the conversation of these two persons, so worthy of 
 each other, had a degree of vivacity and interest 
 which it is impossible to describe. It seemed then 
 that all which the imagination could sugo'est of 
 what is beautiful and good would soon be realised 
 by the growth of their souls. The sad effects of the 
 great Eevolution had not yet shown how easily the 
 noblest designs may be defeated, how the most up- 
 riglit and courageous wills may be broken. In 
 their confidential intimacy they discussed the 
 grandest subjects which can occupy the human 
 mind. Ideas which were one day to be uttered in 
 the " Corinne " and the " Allemagne," the treasures 
 of thought and of sentiment, the inventions of the 
 imagination, dazzled their souls in these familiar 
 conversations. Madame de Stael dreamed without 
 ceasing in the companionship of her j^oung cousin. 
 She Avas delighted with this exchange of views, 
 which tranquilliscd and directed the restless ardour 
 of her thoughts. It was indeed a beautiful spectacle 
 — these two superior minds, at the entrance of life, 
 looking towards the future ; the one already peace- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 fill and self-collected, the other ready to take flight 
 towards the regions where storms, and yet light and 
 glory, prevail.' ^ 
 
 After passing some time at Coppet, they pro- 
 longed their absence into winter, by travels in other 
 parts of Switzerland and in the south of France ; 
 for Madame Necker was quite wilhng to keep her 
 daughter, now advancing in her briUiant youth, as 
 long as possible away fi-om the moral atmosphere 
 of Paris. She had written to Lord Stormont, the 
 British Ambassador at Versailles : ' Paris appears 
 to me more dangerous than ever, now that my 
 daughter is growing into womanhood, and tliat I 
 find myself obliged to war without ceasing, by in- 
 dividual example, against the general example — 
 a combat of unequal strength, and of doubtful 
 success. I am every day astonished at the moral 
 perversion which withers all minds and all hearts. 
 Vices or virtues, all are ahke indifferent, provided 
 only conversation is animated, and ennui^ our most 
 dreaded plague, is banished.' 
 
 They spent some time at Avignon, under a sky 
 so pure and transparent that it seemed ' one ought 
 always to pierce the azure veil, and find, beyond it, 
 aU the consolations one needs ! ' But the vices of 
 Paris are rampant here also ; ' they have even lost 
 some of their polite disguises on the way.' The 
 opinions and corruptions of the capital had long 
 
 ^ Notice mr la Vie et les Ecrits de Madame Necker de Saussure, 
 prefixed to the second edition of her work on Education.
 
 III. 
 
 Travels. 67 
 
 been inundating the provinces ; social, and espe- 
 cially domestic life were dissolving ; and the whole 
 nation was hastening on towards the abyss of its 
 pohtical dissolution. 
 
 They go to Montpeher, in sight of tiie Medi- 
 terranean and the Pyrenees. Tliey are deeply 
 interested in the fervid life of the South. They 
 hear impassioned eloquence from its pulpits — ' from 
 bishops and archbishops,' and especially from the 
 Bishop of Narbonne. They receive refreshing 
 letters from their Parisiari literary friends. Madame 
 Necker replies to one of them, who had visited 
 the family in Switzerland : ' Monsieur Necker, my 
 daughter, and I, constantly think of you. He 
 often says that you have rendered our sojourn at 
 Coppet deliglitful. It is in retirement that one 
 feels the preciousness of genius and friendship, 
 as one hears best in the silence of the night the 
 sound of the sea, or the song of the nightingale.' 
 
 By tracing allusions in their letters, and by 
 other obscure clues, we learn that they turned 
 towards Paris in 1785, and lived for some time in 
 comparative solitude at Marolles, not far from the 
 city. Here their retreat was ' quiet, as no move- 
 ment reached it. All things around being tranquil, 
 the soul is also.' It befitted the studious liabits 
 of Mademoiselle Necker, wlio having, without the 
 aid of schools, far surpassed the usual academic 
 culture, and ranged over the fields of both ancient 
 and modern literature, now aspired to authorship 
 
 r 2
 
 68 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 and literary distinction. Her occasional brief 
 compositions — ' Portraits,' ' Eloges,' ' Synonymes' — 
 had been read with avidity in private circles of her 
 friends, and some of them, as we have seen, had 
 been sent by Grimm to his princely correspondents, 
 as promises of extraordinary genius. Her conver- 
 sation and letters now showed rapidly maturing 
 powers. Madame Necker, still suffering in health, 
 had devolved her correspondence upon her daugh- 
 ter, whose brilliant letters brought back replies 
 full of admiration. The mother, answering one of 
 tliese admirers, not without a tinge of jealousy 
 (ironical, let us trust, in this instance), wrote : 
 ' The first days after my arrival have been very sad ; 
 I have left to my daughter the happiness of writing 
 to you, but she has received a too charming letter 
 from you, and I do not wish that she should inherit 
 my rights before I am no more. One can make 
 little presents during life, but we give all our 
 property only when we die.' 
 
 In the year after her return from her southern 
 travels. Mademoiselle Necker completed a drama 
 in verse, in three acts, entitled ' Sophia, or Secret 
 Sentiments.' Its theme is love without hope ; it is 
 pervaded, says her cousin, by ' a sweet and me- 
 lancholy sensibility ; ' though it has the excess, 
 the sentimentalism, of a juvenile production, the 
 whole piece is marked by presages of genius. It is 
 characterised by great moral dehcacy, but it did not 
 escape the rigorous criticism of Madame Necker.
 
 III. 
 
 Early Writings. 69 
 
 It presents four characters clearly delineated, four 
 well-defined situations, and its style, though in- 
 correct, as its authoress remarked when, in later 
 years, she gave it to the world, bears, nevertheless, 
 the stamp of that vigorous originality which was 
 tlie distinguishing seal of all her mature works. 
 The next year (1787) her genius, now restless in its 
 aspirations, attempted a more ambitious flight ; she 
 composed her tragedy of ' Jane Grey ' in the cus- 
 tomary five acts, a few copies of which were 
 printed, three years later, for private distribution. 
 Its style, though defective, as she acknowledges in 
 tlie preface, shows a surprising improvement on 
 that of her ' Sophia,' as do also its characters, and 
 indeed all the essential attributes of the piece. 
 She has strictly followed history, except in the 
 character of Pembroke. That of Northumberland 
 has been admired as reveahng astonishing power, 
 ' if we consider the age of the writer.' There is 
 genuine pathos in some of the scenes, and not a few 
 passages are written with an energy of thought and 
 feeling unsurpassed in lier later writings. This, it 
 has been remarked, is the only work of Madame de 
 Stael in which we find ' a picture animated with 
 liappiness ; ' its early scenes admit of such a treat- 
 ment notwitli standing its tragic conclusion. It re- 
 veals also that rehgious tendency which habitually 
 characterised the heart of its Avriter ; ' for, as she 
 had always,' says her cousin, ' need of gratitude and, 
 in consequence, of rehgion, in lia])piness, she has
 
 JO Madame dc Stacl. ch. 
 
 given to the cliaracter of Jane Grey a deeply re- 
 ligious colouring.' From her childhood she had 
 an ardent sympathy with her heroine. ' In reading 
 her history,' she says, ' her character has trans- 
 ported me. I was about her age when I attempted 
 to paint it, and her youth encouraged mine. I 
 longed to be able to make others share my admira- 
 tion of that union of force and sensibility which 
 enabled her to brave death while prizing life.' ^ 
 She recurs to her a quarter of a century later in 
 her ' Eeflections on Suicide,' to show that the 
 prospect of a frightful death is not, to a true 
 Christian, a sufficient reason for ending one's days. 
 A second tragedy, entitled ' Montmorency,' quickly 
 followed that of ' Jane Grey,' but it has never been 
 given to the public. 
 
 These juvenile works are interesting, chiefly, 
 as indications of her gromng intellect ; imperfect 
 as they are, they are vivid with her genius. With 
 them ended her attempts at versification on any 
 considerable scale, if we except her ' Epitre au 
 Malheur, ou Adele et Edouard,' relating to the 
 atrocities of the Eevolution, and published in the 
 year 1795. Before she was twenty years of age 
 she composed three tales, which were pubHshed 
 with this poem — ' Mirza,' ' Adelaide and Theodore,' 
 and ' Pauline.' She did not overrate them ; their 
 situations are rather indicated than developed ; she 
 saj's, in her preface, ' their only merit is their pic- 
 
 ^ Preface to Jane Grey : (Euvres completes, ii. Paris, 18G1.
 
 III. 
 
 M. de Guibert. 71 
 
 tiires of some sentiments of the heart.' That tragic 
 tone whicli pervades all her writings is extreme 
 in- these fictitious sketches. The chief importance 
 of the httle volume is in its introduction, which is 
 a critical essay, of remarkable abihty, on Fictitious 
 Literature, written at a later date, but certainly in 
 her early womanhood. It indicates an incredible 
 range of reading, and equally incredible depth 
 of reflection on her reading, Sainte-Beuve calls 
 it ' a charming essay.' It reviews nearly all tlie 
 great works of this kind which had appeared 
 down to her day, in any language — classifying 
 them, first, as Fictions, Marvellous and Allegorical ; 
 secondly. Historical ; thirdly, those which have 
 botli Invention and Imitation, but are founded not 
 so much upon fact as upon probability. She gives 
 pre-eminence, as works of Art, to such as are ■ 
 truly natural romances, exhibiting the real action 
 of human affections and passions, without allegory, 
 without mythology, Avithout fantastic or fairy 
 machinery, and without an obtrusive philosophic 
 or didactic purpose. 
 
 Her ' Eulogy on M. de Guibert ' was written 
 in her twenty-third year ; extracts were given in 
 Grimm's Correspondence, but it was not printed till 
 after her death. It is characterised by much of 
 the entliusiasm and nascent genius whicli pervade 
 her letters on Eousseau. Guibert was the hero of 
 the famous letters of Mademoiselle Lespinasse, a 
 fact not yet known, however, to his young eulogist.
 
 72 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 There was miicli nobleness in his character, and he 
 had rare talent, as his writings show ; he was an 
 habitual and brilliant guest of the Necker salon^ 
 and was in full sympathy witli ISTecker's political 
 opinions — ' one of the first,' says Sainte-Beuve, ' to 
 conceive the ideas and means of public reform, 
 the States-General, the citizen soldiery/ &c. ; ' but,' 
 adds this writer, ' I am tlie more pleased Avith him 
 for having foreseen with certainty, and disclosed in 
 advance, by a " portrait " the future greatness of 
 Corinne.' She had, probably, a stronger reason for 
 her interest in him. Years later, wlien in England, 
 she intimated to a friend that ' Guibert had been 
 very much in love with her before her marriage.' ^ 
 If she could not reciprocate his affection, she could 
 appreciate it, for a woman, especially sucli a 
 woman, always feels herself complimented by love, 
 though it may be from a man incapable of winning 
 her heart, or perhaps even her esteem. It is at 
 least a homage to her attractions, and that is a 
 tribute wliich no woman can despise. The Eulogy 
 on Guibert is the expression of a grateful, as well 
 as of an admiring heart. 
 
 Such were tlie tentative productions of her 
 juvenile pen, before she dared to send forth the 
 superior, tliough defective, ' Letters on the Writings 
 and Character of Eousseau,' wliich were to be the 
 first pubhshed demonstration of her superb genius.*^ 
 
 '' Wharton's Queens of Societij, p. 309. Loudon, 18G7. 
 
 ^ Sainte-Beuve is evidently inclined to think that the earliest
 
 111. 
 
 Her YoiUh. JZ 
 
 We have anticipated a few dates in this con- 
 ne(-ted view of her earhest works. Meanwhile 
 otlter and important events have occurred. Her 
 father, still pursued by persecution, has been ban- 
 ished from the vicinity of Paris, and she has accom- 
 panied him in his exile. She has grown into a 
 rich young Avomanhood, physical and intellectual. 
 Her admirable conversational powers have already 
 been recoofnised in the best circles as somethins^ 
 wonderful. Her unfortunate marriage has taken 
 place. The increasing embarrassments of the na- 
 tional treasury have compelled the government 
 to turn again imploringly to Necker, and he is 
 about to be recalled to office, replacing the family 
 in the dazzHng excitements of Parisian life. And 
 in the same year with his restoration she is to 
 take her position, and take it for ever, in the 
 literary ranks of her country by her first pubUca- 
 tion. 
 
 ■written of her printed works may have been the small volume 
 entitled Letfres de jSannine a Simphal, wliich was attiihuted to her 
 by M. Beucliat, but was disavowed by her family at the time of its 
 publication (1818), after her death ; if it is genuine, it was probably 
 written about her fifteenth year. M. Bohaire, publisher at Lyons, 
 and owner of the manuscript, insisted that, though not in the hand- 
 writing of Madame de Stael, the work is nevertheless hers. (Querards 
 La France. Littcraire, tome ix. The Biofp-aphie UniverseUe inclines 
 to the same opinion.) It differs little from her three other novelettes, 
 except that it is more juvenile in style. It is a small, sentimental 
 I'oraance, such as an ardent, guileless young girl might readily 
 imagine.
 
 74 Madame dc Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 ^ CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EARLY WOMANHOOD. 
 
 Necker — His Daughter witli liim in Exile — Her Account of liis Book 
 on tlie Importance of Religious Opinions — Her Development — An 
 early Portrait of her — Description of her in her Eighteenth Year — 
 In her Twentieth Year — Her Manners in Company — Her Bon- 
 homie — Her Cou^ersatioual Powers — -Her Religious Tendency — A 
 Literary ' Portrait ' of her. 
 
 Neckee, on liis late visit to Lausanne, published 
 tliere his work ' On the Administration of the 
 Finances,' vindicating his ' Comj^te Eendu,' and ex- 
 posing more completely the wretched fiscal con- 
 dition of France. It struck the nation, as we have 
 seen, with astonishment, and startled Europe. His 
 daughter sa5's ' it made the fortune of three or 
 four pubhshers ; a hundred thousand copies were 
 issued, and it is now [1809] esteemed the only- 
 classic in French literature on its subject.' ^ The 
 Emperor Joseph H., the King of Poland, and the 
 King of Naples, had invited him to take charge of 
 the finances of their governments. Catherine of 
 Eussia and Frederick the Great had expressed 
 surprise and regret at his treatment by the Cabinet 
 
 ^ Du Cnrocthre de M. Necker &:c. An edition was issued the 
 same year, 1784, in London.
 
 IV. 
 
 Necker. 75 
 
 of Versailles. Declining all foreign overtures, he 
 remained faithful to his adopted country. Cal- 
 onne, his successor, convoked the Assembly of 
 Notables, and attacked before it the ' Compte 
 Eendu.' Necker rephed through the press, and 
 the immediate result was his banishment forty* 
 leagues from Paris. His daughter was inexpress- 
 ibly afflicted by this new persecution. She says 
 that ' a lettre de cachet^ an exile, appeared to me 
 the most cruel act that could be committed. I 
 uttered cries of despair when I heard of it. I had 
 no idea of a greater misfortune. All the society 
 of Paris, that refined manners and a long period 
 of peace had rendered unfamihar with sucli suffer- 
 ing, crowded to my father mth their sympathy, 
 and with indignation against his exile. I passed 
 the time of his banishment with him. How calm 
 and serene he was ! He now finislied his work 
 " On the Importance of Eeligious Opinions," a grand 
 proof of the tranquilhty of his soul in circum- 
 stances which might well agitate an ambitious man. 
 This production could not serve his interests ; on 
 the contrary, he risked many distinguished partisans 
 by it ; for he was the first, and even the only one, 
 among the recognised writers of the period who 
 dared to signahse the irreligious tendency of the 
 times. Unaided, he warred against that disastrous 
 tendency, not with hatred for philosophy, but 
 Avith noble enthusiasm for rehgion ; religion with- 
 out which reason has no sfuide, ima"ination no
 
 76 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 object, sensibility no deptli, and virtue itself no 
 charms.' 
 
 During these adversities of Necker, the interval 
 between his first and second administrations, 1781- 
 1788, his daughter passed through the most interest- 
 ing period of her youth, from her fifteenth to 
 her tAventy-second year. By her keen sympathy 
 with her father she received the salutary disci- 
 pline of affliction ; her retired life enabled her to 
 prosecute extensive studies ; and the country air 
 restored her health. 
 
 Sainte-Beuve mentions an unpublished por- 
 trait which he had seen, representing her, in her 
 early youth, with hair loose and floating in the 
 air ; eyes confiding and bathed in light ; forehead 
 higli ; hps open, speaking, and ' moderately thick 
 in sign of intelligence and generosity ; ' complexion 
 animated by sentiment ; neck and arms bare ; 
 ' costume hglit, with a ribbon floating at the waist ; 
 bosom respiring with full breath. Such might be 
 the " Sophie " of the " Emile," such the author of 
 the " Lettres sur Jean-Jacques," accompanying her 
 guide in her Elysium, excited at every step, con- 
 stantly advancing and returning, now on the one 
 side, now on the other.' 
 
 In her eighteenth year she is described as ' so 
 mature a woman that they could justly pronounce 
 her to be one of the most luminous spirits of tlie 
 times ; she eclipsed all who came near her, and
 
 IV. 
 
 Her Youth. yy 
 
 seemed rightfully the mistress of the house.' ^ The 
 same authority, speaking of her appearance in her 
 twentieth year, says, ' Her figure was admirable ; 
 her shoulders, her bust, her arms and hands, 
 were of rare beauty ; she had in her mien and 
 her features all that poetry of soul which she 
 afterwards displayed in her writings. Without 
 being beautiful, she was already the model after 
 which Gerard painted his Corinne twenty years 
 later, having the same richness of form and 
 health, the same purity of lines — those contours, 
 powerfully rounded, which express a poetic or- 
 ganisation.' Young as she was (in 1788), ' she 
 had a very powerful fascination, felt by all who 
 approaclied her.' Her cousin says that she was 
 graceful in all her movements ; her countenance, 
 without entirely satisfying the ej^e at first, attracted 
 it, and then retained it, by a rare charm, for it 
 quickly displayed a sort of ideal or intellectual 
 beauty. No one feature was salient enough to 
 determine, in advance, her character or mood, ex- 
 cept her eyes, which were truly magnificent ; but 
 lier varying thoughts painted themselves in ever- 
 varying expression on her face. It had, therefore, 
 no one permanent expression ; her physiognomy 
 was, so to speak, created by the emotion of the 
 moment. In repose her eyelids had something 
 like languor, but a flash of thought would illu- 
 
 ^ Duchesse d'Abraiites' Ifisfoire des Salons de Paris, Introd.
 
 78 Madame dc Stael. ch. 
 
 minate her glances with a sudden fire, a sort of 
 lio-htninof forerunnino; her words. There was, 
 however, no unquiet mobihty about her features ; 
 a kind of exterior indolence characterised her ; but 
 her vigorous frame, her firm and well adjusted 
 attitudes, added to the great force and singular 
 directness of her discourse. There was, meanwhile, 
 something dramatic in her bearing ; and even her 
 toilette, though exempt from all exaggerations, gave 
 an idea of the picturesque more than of the mode 
 or fashion. 
 
 Some of those negligent caprices, or eccentri- 
 cities, usually attributed to persons of genius, were 
 reported of her about this period. It is said that, 
 at her presentation at Court, the courtiers, who 
 were familiar with her reputation, amused them- 
 selves over a fault in her ' curtsey and a slight 
 derangement of her robe ;' ^ and in a visit, a few 
 days later, to the Duchesse de Polignac, a confidant 
 of the Queen, ' she forgot her bonnet, leaving it in 
 her carriage.' The feminine gentlemen, and mas- 
 culine ladies, of the court, envious of her rising 
 fame, found occasion for self-complacent criticism, 
 for rebuke and sarcasm, in such barbarous defects. 
 She herself repeated these reports to her friends 
 with equal self-complacency. 
 
 When she entered a salon., her step was, accor- 
 ding to her cousin's sketch, measured and dignified ; 
 a slight diffidence seemed to require her to aim at 
 
 ^ Encyclopedie des Gens du Monde &c. tome xxi, Paris, 1844.
 
 IV. Early Character. 79 
 
 self-control, especially if her introduction attracted 
 many eyes. As if this passing cloud of embarrass- 
 ment had prevented her from distinguishing, at first, 
 the individuals of the company, her face became 
 illuminated in proportion as she recognised them. 
 A listener would suppose that she had inscribed 
 on her mind all their names ; and very soon those 
 charming words, of which she was so generous, 
 showed that the most distinguished acts, or qualities, 
 of each were present to her thoughts. Her praises 
 proceeded from the heart, and therefore reached it. 
 She knew how to compliment without flattering. 
 It was a maxim with her that politeness is the art 
 of choosing among one's real thoughts. 
 
 Her whole demeanour was marked by a dis- 
 position to obhge ; there were abundant wit and 
 vivid repartee, but no chicanery, and, especially, no 
 severity, in her expressions. ' Her cordiaHty im- 
 posed silence on self-love,' and her superior sense 
 imposed it on self-conceit ; but pride itself could 
 not feel resentful towards her, for her perfect 
 sincerity and instinctive kindhness and good hu- 
 mour won all hearts. A writer who knew her 
 in her childhood and in her advanced life says that 
 '- among lier most remarkable qualities her hon- 
 homie held perhaps the first rank.' * This ex- 
 traordinary conciliatory power, united to an intel- 
 lectual superiority which seldom fails to provoke 
 envious criticism, was doubtless much enhanced 
 
 * Simond's Voyage &c.
 
 So Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 by a certain tenderness and sadness, which habi- 
 tually affected her tli oughts, and often appeared 
 suddenly in her gayest conversation. Her sensi- 
 bilities were quicker even tlian her thoughts. 
 Society, conversation, were a necessity of her nature ; 
 she needed distraction, for a certain pensiveness, 
 not to say melancholy, hung continually about her ; 
 it was mitigated \y^ years, but was never totally dis- 
 pelled.^ It was a powerful element of her genius, 
 and gave ricli poetic colouring to her writings. She 
 usually retired from company, in which she had 
 conversed much, witli sensible relief. ' Tins relief,' 
 says her cousin, ' was necessary to her very being. 
 The conservative instinct of her talents repelled 
 dullness or depression. Perhaps her constitution, 
 more sensitive than was supposed, required the 
 stimulus of diversion ; for a sort of terror seized 
 her at the thoug;ht of the stao-nation of existence. 
 In her youtli she could not endure solitude ; and 
 tlie melancholy impressions, which are painted 
 with so much beauty in her works, were with her 
 formidable reahties.' It w^as only very late in 
 life, when she was able to hold in abeyance the 
 phantoms created by her imagination, that she 
 could, according to her own expression, ' live in 
 society with nature ; ' consequently ennui^ whicli in 
 
 * The last and unfinished sentence in her Ten Years of Exile, 
 ■written in her forty-sixth year, reads : ' I have always been strangely 
 subject to ennui, and, far from Ifnowinghow to employ m3'self in those 
 oitirely void moments, which seem appropriate only to study . . . .'
 
 IV, Her Manners. 
 
 society or elsewhere is a solitude in which one has 
 not even his normal self for company, was ex- 
 tremely dreaded by her. It sufficed not that her 
 associates were intellectual, they must be animated. 
 She could not be content if they spoke without 
 interest. 'How can they expect me to listen,' she 
 said, ' if they do not themselves the honour to hsten 
 to themselves ? ' She could endure better certain 
 defects of character or manner, than heartlessness, 
 or a lack of interest in the speaker. She said, one 
 day, of an egotist, ' He speaks indeed only of 
 himself, but this does not oppress me, for I am sure 
 that he is at least interested in what he says.' She 
 delighted in humour, though there is hardly a trace 
 of it in her own writings, except one or two of her 
 domestic dramas. She showed a sort of tenderness, 
 a lively gratitude, for those who cheered her by 
 their conversation. A hon mot., a comic story, a 
 brilliant epigram, charmed her. Piquancy, origina- 
 lity, imagination — these pleased her above all else ; 
 they gave spring to her mind, wings to her genius. 
 A single marked trait or talent was more valued 
 by her than any combination of mediocre qualities, 
 however numerous. 
 
 Talent in others always prompted her own. 
 She was never dispirited in conversation by the 
 brilliancy of competitors ; but, witli a simple 
 candour, a charming abandon., she gave herself up 
 to the inspiration of their powers, and shone tlie 
 brighter for the combination of their Hght with 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 hers. This simphcity, this utter frankness, was an 
 infinite cliarm ; never has tlie etymological signifi- 
 cance of the word sincerity had a finer exemphfica- 
 tion. Hence her self-rehance never appeared like 
 egotism ; it was perfect, and yet apparently with- 
 out self-consciousness, Hke that of the ascending 
 lark, which doubts not its power of wing because 
 it thinks not of it. She had no reason to fear 
 rivals in conversation ; her superiority there was 
 supreme. ' This illustrious woman,' says a good 
 authority, ' personified the eloquence of conversa- 
 tion in the country where that brilhant gift was the 
 most fully appreciated.' ^ 
 
 In the more strictly moral qualities of her 
 nature we discern an habitual conflict between her 
 conscience'and her life. Thougli, during this period 
 of her young womanhood, she showed no very posi- 
 tive disposition to self-assertion on religious subjects, 
 her heart ever turned towards them in spite of its 
 waywardness, and of the corrupt social influences 
 which prevailed around her, and, at a later period, 
 more or less infected her. The authority just cited 
 says, 'The daughter of Necker, notwithstanding 
 the energy and originality of her nature, received 
 a strong impression from the philosophic society 
 which surrounded her youth ; yet the scepticism 
 of that arid and railing philosophy was utterly re- 
 pugnant to the fervour and loyalty of her soid; and, 
 
 " Coppet et Weimar: Madame de Staiil et la Grande-Duchesse 
 Louise. Preface. Paris, 1862,
 
 IV. 
 
 Gtiiberfs Sketch. 
 
 with her all convictions, took, on the contrary, the 
 intensity and ardour of faith. As she ripened in 
 experience and was cured of the intoxications and 
 illusions of youth, she was more and more led to 
 the Christian belief, the precepts of which were 
 blended in her soul with her filial affection.' 
 '.She could not,' says her cousin, 'separate in her 
 experience religion from happiness,' and that highly 
 gifted woman adopted, as the motto on the 
 title-page of her important work on Education, a 
 sentence from Madame de Stael which expresses 
 her whole tlieory of human hfe : ' Life is valuable 
 only so far as it serves for the religious education 
 of the heart.' ^ 
 
 Madame Necker de Saussure has preserved for 
 us a sketch of her as she appeared about this time, 
 to her admirers at least, — one of those ' portraits,' 
 the reading of which in the salons of Paris was 
 a favourite literary entertainment of the period. 
 They are abundant in the fugitive literature of the 
 times, and though they were, of course, generally 
 eulogistic, their success depended on their vrai- 
 seniblance. This one was from the pen of M. de 
 Guibert, whom we have already had occasion to 
 notice as a guest of the Necker salon, and eminent 
 in both the society and literature of that day. He 
 wrote it after the model of a Greek poem, but, 
 
 ' L^Education Progressive, ou Etude du Cours de la Vie. 3 vols. 
 Lausanne, 1838. 
 
 4 2
 
 84 Madaine de Stacl. ch. 
 
 apart from its poetry, it may be pronounced a true 
 likeness : — 
 
 ' She is but twenty years old, but slie is the 
 most celebrated priestess of Apollo, and the favour- 
 ite of the god — the one whose hymns and incense 
 are the most agreeable to him. Her words bring 
 him down from heaven to glorify his temple and 
 mingle with mortals, 
 
 ' From the midst of tlie consecrated maidens, 
 the choir of tlie priestesses, suddenly advances one ; 
 my heart will always remember her. Her great 
 black eyes are radiant witli genius ; her hair, of 
 the hue of ebony, falls in floating ringlets on her 
 shoulders ; her features are more strongly marked 
 tlian delicate — one sees in them something above 
 the destiny of her sex. Sucli it would be necessary 
 to paint the Muse of Poetry, or Clio, or Melpomene. 
 See her ! See her ! all exclaim, when she appears ; 
 and they hold their breath to hear her. I had seen 
 the Pythoness of Delphi; I had seen the Sibyl of 
 Cumce, but they were extravagant ; their movements 
 were convulsive ; they appeared less inspired by a 
 god than devoted to the Furies. This young priestess 
 is animated Avithout excess ; inspired without in- 
 toxication ; her cliarm is freedom, and her super- 
 natural powers seem to belong to her own nature. 
 
 ' Uniting her voice with the sounds of her lyre, 
 made of ivory and gold, slie began to sing the 
 praises of Apollo. Her words and music were 
 spontaneous. From the celestial fire of the poetry
 
 Guiberfs Sketch. 85 
 
 which kmdled her aspect, and the profound atten- 
 tion of the people, we could see that her imagina- 
 tion created the song ; and, astonished and enchanted, 
 we knew not which most to admire, its facility or its 
 perfection. Then, laying aside her lyre, she spoke 
 of the great truths of nature, of the immortahty 
 of the soul, of liberty, of the charm and the danger 
 of the passions. In hearing her one would be dis- 
 posed to say that many persons, many experiences, 
 were minsi;led in her one soul. On observinof her 
 youth, we were fain to ask how she had been 
 able thus to anticipate life and to exist before her 
 birth? 
 
 ' I saw and heard her with transport ; I dis- 
 covered in her features charms superior to beauty. 
 What a play and variety in her countenance, 
 what modulations of her voice, what perfect accord 
 between her thoughts and expressions ! When 
 she speaks, if her words cannot reach me, her 
 tones, her gestures, and her looks suffice to convey 
 to me her meaning. 
 
 ' She pauses a moment : her last words sound 
 through my soul, and I discover in her eyes what 
 she has yet to say. At length she is silent, and the 
 temple resounds with applause ; her long eyelashes 
 shade her eyes of fire, and the sun is veiled from 
 our sight ! '
 
 86 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MAEEIAGE COREESPONDENCE WITH GUSTAVUS III. 
 
 Baron de Stael — Count Fersen — Interest of the French Court in the 
 INIarriage — Stael's subsequent Career — His Wife's Correspondence 
 with his King — French Court Life — Necker's Restoration to Ofiice. 
 
 Attractive by rare endowments of mind and lieart, 
 with personal charms greater than those of beauty, 
 and, withal, one of the richest heiresses of France, 
 Mademoiselle Necker could not fail of suitors. Her 
 marriage, however, was a difficult family question. 
 Her mother was not willing that she should marry 
 a Roman Catholic, and the most eligible oppor- 
 tunities, apart from religion, seemed almost confined 
 to the high Catholic families of the country. The 
 daughter's passionate aflection for her father led 
 her to insist that she should not be separated from 
 liim. These difficulties were compromised at last 
 by their accepting Eric Magnus, Baron de Stael 
 Holstein. 
 
 There is evidence tliat Count Fersen, a Swede 
 of higher pretensions, luid ]ioped to win Jier 
 Jiand. He was younger than Stael, and singularly 
 liandsome, belonging to a ftimily in which personal 
 beauty had long been an liereditary distinction.
 
 Count Fersen. 87 
 
 He was a favourite with his King, and beloved by 
 the Queen of France, whose intimacy with him be- 
 came a popular subject of the scandals with which 
 she was overwhelmed during tlie Eevolution.^ He 
 spent some years in America, fighting for the 
 colonial revolutionists, as aide-de-camp of Couni 
 Vaux and, later, of Eochambeau ; and was present 
 at the surrender of Cornwalhs. He attempted to 
 save the Koyal family of France by the famous flight 
 to Varennes, and conducted them, disguised as 
 their coachman, as far as Bondy. Though he re- 
 vered Washington, he was one of the very few 
 Frenchmen that served in America who did not 
 return with liberal principles. He was opposed to 
 the republican tendencies of tlie times, and ab- 
 horred the French revolutionists. He disliked 
 Necker's liberalism, and this, probably, was the 
 reason why he failed to win the affections of his 
 daughter. The Adonis of the Court, he cared 
 little about his failure ; her great fortune was 
 probably her cliief attraction for him ; and it 
 is said that he compromised this with his friend 
 Stael, by accepting from him a large bonus and by 
 zealously promoting tlieir marriage. Fersen wrote 
 to his father, ' Necker has at last made his deci- 
 sion : he gives his daughter to Stael ; and I am 
 
 ^ Barou Klinckowstrom, a relative of the Oouut, lias puLlished 
 (ie Comte Fersen ct la Cour de France, 2 vols. Paris, 1878), the diaries, 
 letters, and despatches of Fersen — aflbrding important data for the 
 history of the Revolution. There are in these volumes twenty-eight 
 letters from Marie Antoinette to Fersen, and thirty-two from him to 
 her.
 
 88 Madame dc Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 delighted for his sake. He had many and powerful 
 rivals, among whom was Mr. Pitt, who is now at the 
 head of affairs in England ; but the girl has pre- 
 ferred M. de Stael.' 
 
 The Baron de Stael was a Swede, of moderate 
 fortune, but of generous character, of solid instruc- 
 tion, of philosophic tastes, and zealously devoted 
 to the reforms which then occupied the attention 
 of the enhghtened classes of French society,^ — a 
 man of pohshed manners, and of good official pros- 
 pects. He was born in 1749 ; was a mihtary offi- 
 cer some fourteen years ; was chamberlain to the 
 Queen of Sweden, and a Chevaher de I'Epee. He 
 was made a Councillor to the Swedish Legation at 
 the Court of France in 1778 ; appointed Charge 
 d'Affaires in 1783 ; subsequently Minister Pleni- 
 potentiary, and, finally. Ambassador.^ At the time 
 of his marriage he was thirty-seven years old ; his 
 bride was but twenty ; but the disparity of their 
 ages was no serious consideration, especially in 
 view of the marriages of convenance then custo- 
 mary in France, which usually made Httle or no 
 account of the age of the husband. It was not, 
 however, a marriage of love, on the part of the 
 bride at least. It is supposed that her motive in 
 consenting to it was her affection for her father, 
 for whom she was alwaj^s ready to make any sacri- 
 fice. Stael was a fervent advocate of Necker's 
 
 ^ Nouvelle Bioyraphie Gcnerale, xliv. 
 ^ Bioyraphie Univei'selle, xl.
 
 Her Marriage. 89 
 
 political opinions, and was devoted to his official 
 interests. He was a Protestant ; and willing to 
 concede Mademoiselle Necker's demand that she 
 should never be separated from her parents. Like 
 his friend Fersen, he was a favourite at tlie Court 
 of Versailles, especially with Marie Antoinette, 
 and could probably promote the interests of 
 Necker there. The Queen encouraged the mar- 
 riage, and induced Gustavus IH. of Sweden to 
 promise the Baron a long continuance in the 
 Len^ation at Paris, in order that he mis^ht fulfil his 
 pledge to the family not to withdraw their daugh- 
 ter from the country. In short, the match seemed 
 every way eligible, if it could onlj^ be one of real 
 aflfection. Mademoiselle Necker may have been able 
 to see no more Avorthy opportunity, in the French 
 society around her ; or she may have deceived her 
 own heart through devotion to her father's inte- 
 rests. 
 
 The marriage was not a precipitate one ; the 
 negotiations for it had extended through some 
 years. King Gustavus was in intimate sympathy 
 witli the Court of Versailles ; his occasional visits to 
 Paris were a special pleasure to him ; he constantly 
 received news from the capital, not only through 
 ]iis official representatives, but from the correspon- 
 dence of Madame de la Marck, Madame d'Egmont, 
 and Madame de Boufflers. The latter persistently 
 promoted tlie interests of Stael, and managed, mth 
 the King, the preliminaries of the marriage. She
 
 90 Madame de Sta'cl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 induced Marie Antoinette and at last the King him- 
 self, to write to Gustavus favouring it. Creuts, the 
 Swedish ambassador at Paris, looking for promo- 
 tion at home, urged Gustavus to give his place to 
 Stael. ' Your Majesty,' he wrote, ' cannot imagine 
 to what a point the King and Queen are interested 
 in him. The King loves him as much as the Queen, 
 and treats him with real affection. He has, ac- 
 cording to the avowal of the King himself, special 
 audiences with the Queen, such as I cannot, as 
 ambassador, obtain.' * Stael himself kept up an 
 adroit and urgent correspondence with Gustavus 
 on the subject. In these, as in all his subsequent 
 official communications with the Court of Sweden, 
 he showed himself an able diplomat. Gustavus 
 came to see, at last, that though the terms de- 
 manded for the marriage were extraordinary, yet 
 the wishes of the French Court, and the opulent 
 dowry and distinguished talents of the bride, would 
 be of great advantage, not only to his legation, but 
 to himself, and he consented. A formal stipulation 
 was made, guaranteeing not only the ambassador- 
 ship for twelve j^ears, but also a pension of 25,000 
 livres per annum in case, ' by circumstances unfore- 
 seen, M. de Stael should lose liis ambassadorship.' 
 
 The marriage took place on the 14th January, 
 1786. As her husband will seldom reappear in 
 our narrative, we may liere briefly anticipate tlie 
 
 "* Geffroy, Heme des Deux Mondes, l>'oO. See also Gustav III. 
 et la Cour de France, by the same writer, ibid. 1864-65.
 
 Baron de Stael. Q i 
 
 principal subsequent events of his life. Favouring, 
 like Necker, the liberal spirit of the times, he did 
 not, like Necker, escape its radical tendencies. He 
 entered with enthusiasm into the Revolution, and 
 allied himself closely ivith members of the Consti- 
 tuent Assembly. His King was decidedly hostile 
 to the new pohtical ideas of France, and, becoming 
 the royal leader of the foreign opposition to tliem, 
 recalled him in 1792 ; but he was restored tlie 
 next year, after the death of Gustavus by assassi- 
 nation. He arrived again in Paris about two 
 months after the execution of Louis XVL, and was 
 then the only ambassador from a royal govern- 
 ment to the new republic. An astonishing change 
 had taken place in a short time. Most of his old 
 friends had fied from the country, or were in prison, 
 or had perished on the scaffold ; and Necker had 
 escaped, with his family, to Switzerland. On en- 
 tering tlie capital he sought the goodwill of the 
 Revolutionists, by a donation of three thousand 
 francs to the poor of the section of the Croix 
 Rouge, then a liot-bed of the revolutionary spirit. 
 He was alarmed at the tumults and atrocities around 
 liim ; and returned to Sweden, bearing with him a 
 treaty of alliance, which had been forced upon him 
 by the Convention, but which was so objectionable 
 that the Regent of Sweden rejected it. Not till tlie 
 fall of Robespierre did Ids Government send liiiii 
 again to the French capital, for the negotiation of 
 another treaty of alliance. He remained at liis
 
 92 Madame de SiacL 
 
 CH. 
 
 post, displaying at times not a little courage, through 
 the vicissitudes of parties, down to 1799, when he 
 was recalled by the young King, Gustavus Adolphus. 
 Of the separation of his wife from him and the 
 reasons for it, and of his death, we shall hereafter 
 have occasion to speak. 
 
 Under the auspices of the new ambassadress 
 the salon of the Swedish Legation immediately 
 became ' the most brilliant of all the diplomatic 
 salons of Paris. The ambassador was more favoured 
 than all others, in his private audiences at the Court, 
 and by the confidence of Necker, who was familiar 
 with the Court news and possessed commanding 
 credit. Stael was at the summit of his ambition ; he 
 was master of an immense fortune, and ambassador 
 for life. Necker saw his daughter a baroness and 
 an ambassadress ; he could hold his head high at 
 Court. Gustavus himself, besides the political 
 advantages which this union promised him, had 
 won a new and already celebrated feminine ad- 
 mirer, whose correspondence would outshine that 
 of Mesdames d'Egmont, de la March, de Boufflers, 
 and so many others.' ^ 
 
 The correspondence here alluded to, though 
 affording few personal facts for our pages, is valu- 
 able to the historian of the Revolution, and has a 
 curious history. 
 
 ^ Geffroy errs in supposiiif^ the Baron's appointment to Lave been 
 'pour toujours." See M. d'llaussonville, in Revue des Deux Mondes, 
 Aui?. 1880.
 
 V. Royal Correspondence. 93 
 
 Some years ago the public journals of Europe 
 announced that an im})ortant discovery was made 
 in the Scandinavian University town of Upsala. Two 
 large cases, filled with letters and historical docu- 
 ments, had been brought out of a subterranean 
 concealment, and were about to be revealed to the 
 world. They had been left, by the will of Gusta- 
 vus III., to the University, in 1788, on the condition 
 that they should not be opened till fifty years after 
 his death. He died in 1792 ; they were opened 
 in 1842, in presence of a royal commission. These 
 documents formed more than a hundred volumes 
 — sixty-four in foho, and fifty-five in quarto. They 
 had been all classified, catalogued, and carefuUy 
 stitched. The Swedish historian Geijer was ap- 
 pointed by the Government to examine and edit 
 the precious collection. One of the volumes (in 
 quarto) bears the title of ' Letters from Foreign 
 Ladies.' They are from Marie Antoinette, Mesdames 
 d'Egmont, de la Marck, de Boufflers, but, above 
 all, many are in the handwriting of Madame de 
 Stael. Immediately after her marriage she became, 
 at the soHcitation of Gustavus, one of his private 
 correspondents ; and, under the title of ' Bulletins of 
 News,' sent him abundant court and city gossip, re- 
 heved often by sagacious comments which show that 
 she understood, better perhaps than those around 
 her, the drift of opinions and events, and the tragic 
 catastrophe to Avliich they were tending. They 
 give a picture of the last years of the ancien regime.
 
 9-1- Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 and striking proofs of the intellectual vigour of the 
 young writer. She attributes the growing agita- 
 tions to the North American Ee volution. Gustavus 
 himself saw them in this liglit ; and, in a letter to 
 Stedingk, his representative at St. Petersburg, which 
 was to be shown to Catherine II., he calls them ' an 
 epidemic of popular effervescence — an epidemic 
 which has had its real source in America, and is 
 extending over France.' The reaction of the new 
 on tlie old world had already begun : it was to be 
 fearfully abused ; sometimes temporarily counter- 
 acted, but never defeated. For good or for evil, 
 it was to s]iape the future social and political his- 
 tory of Europe. Dumont, the coadjutor of Mira- 
 beau, says, ' The National Assembly began with 
 the famous Declaration of the " Eights of Man ; " 
 it was an American idea, and regarded as a ne- 
 cessary preliminary.' ^ The first placards on the 
 Avails of Paris, proposing a republic, were written 
 by Thomas Paine, and were signed by a young noble- 
 man, Duchatelet, who had served in America. 
 Condorcet and his circle were among the first to 
 avow Eepublicanism. ' America,' says Dumont, 
 ' appeared to them tlie model of good government, 
 and it seemed easy to transplant into France the 
 system of federahsm.' ^ The primary cause of the 
 Eevolution was, doubtless, the ruined finances of 
 
 ^ Dumont, though he did not approve the document, helped to 
 compose it. Souvenhs mr Miraheau, chap. vii. Paris, 1832. 
 " Ibid. chap. xvi.
 
 V. At Court. 95 
 
 the country ; its proximate cause was the character 
 of the King ;^ its final cause was the repubhcanisni 
 of America. ' The American war,' says a Eoyahst 
 liistorian,' developed in France new germs of revolt. 
 It afforded at once the example and the tactics ; 
 confused ideas of Hberty, of independence, of de- 
 mocracy, fermented in all heads, and prepared a 
 general explosion.'^ 
 
 Her title as Ambassadress brought Madame 
 de Stael into immediate relations with the Court. 
 ' The Queen,' she writes to Gustavus, ' has received 
 me with kindness. She said to me that for a lono' 
 time she had desired my acquaintance, and she 
 thus distinguishes all who bear Swedish names. 
 The repast was more magnificent than any yet 
 given to an ambassadress. Eight days afterwards 
 I was received at dinner, with the Spanish Am- 
 bassador, at M. de Vergenne's. He took us both 
 by the hand, to make us pass together.' She goes 
 to the Trianon — still so agreeable to the eye, so sad 
 to the memory — to the Court at Versailles and 
 at Fontainebleau. ' The Queen's balls,' she says, 
 ' are very splendid. The hall is arranged as a 
 fairy palace. The gardens of the Trianon are 
 there, and fountains of water play continuallj- ; 
 pastoral ideas, reveries that the country inspires, 
 mingle with the splendours of the luxury of 
 
 ^ Dumont, chap. xvii. 
 
 ^ Beitraiid de Moleville's Hist, de la Revolution, &c. i., Introd. 
 Paris, 1801.
 
 96 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 courts. In another hall you witness recreations 
 but little pastoral — reckless gambling. Young M. 
 Castellane has had to quit his paternal home for 
 having lost here, in one evening, the wliole of his 
 fortune. The Queen sets an example of modera- 
 tion ; and it is not on her account that her Court is 
 ruining itself. But the gamesters tire of every other 
 occupation ; they find everything else insipid. They 
 have acquired the taste for great excitements ; they 
 cannot get on without gaming. The apartments of 
 the King, and above all of the Queen, at Fontaine- 
 bleau, are of an extraordinary magnificence. The 
 cabinet of the Queen is beautiful in all its details, 
 beyond anything that can be imagined. The Mar- 
 shal, Segur, makes no promotions ; the Ministers 
 all retain their places ; suppers and dinners are the 
 only events of the day. They sup three times a 
 week with Madame de Polignac, three times with 
 Madame de Lamballe, and once in the Cabinet. 
 The Queen goes to Madame de Polignac and 
 Madame de Lamballe daily at twelve o'clock, and 
 plays at billiards : a game at which women succeed 
 well. It has become fashionable. The houses of 
 .the Ministers, of the captains of the Guard, of the 
 great officers of the Crown, are filled even till 
 twelve o'clock ; at this hour all leave for the house 
 in which the Queen is to be found. At midnight 
 they go forth to pass the time elsewhere. Games 
 are the only secret they have yet discovered for 
 the amusement of assembled people — or rather for
 
 The Finances. 97 
 
 their occupation. The greatest pleasure of the 
 mistress of a mansion is to disembarrass herself of 
 those who are with her, by enchaining them to 
 tables of quinze or of trictrac' 
 
 Such scenes were, however, an onerous official 
 ■etiquette to the young ambassadress. Her own salon 
 presented attractions infinitely superior to this 
 courtly and vacant folly, for there she could gather 
 elite minds, and hold high discussions on the noblest 
 themes. 
 
 Wliether by the influence of his son-in-law and 
 of his son-in-law's friends at Court, or otherwise, 
 Necker's pohtical fortunes began again to brighten. 
 Every experiment made by his successors in the 
 national finances only involved them in deeper 
 embarrassment. Calonne's failures and his perse- 
 cution and banishment of Necker caused a reaction. 
 The King dismissed him. The feebleness of the sove- 
 reign's character, his habitual vacillation, rendered 
 the pohcy and the fate of miy Minister precarious, 
 and must be considered as one of the chief causes 
 of the general downfall which was now at hand. 
 The Marshal de Castries, Minister of the Marine, 
 proposed the recall of Necker, but the King could 
 not yet humble himself by reinstating a man whom 
 he had exiled. M. de Fourqueux was appohited, of 
 whom Madame de Stael said that 'Never did the 
 perruque of a Councillor of State cover a poorer 
 head.' ^ M. de Brienne, then Archbishop of Tou- 
 
 ^ Coiisiderations &c. i. 9. 
 VOL. I. H
 
 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 louse, later of Sens, followed ; he attempted vigor- 
 ous measures, but all his endeavours served only to 
 show the impossibility of conciliating the obstinate 
 selfishness of parties and classes ; none would 
 tolerate measures for the relief of tlie treasury 
 which might bear unfavourably on their own re- 
 sources. At last, after seven years of disgrace, 
 Necker had to be recalled, though he himself at 
 least saw that it was in vain. His dauc^hter was 
 tlie first to bear to him the news, which at any 
 earlier and more hopeful period would have been 
 most grateful to his wounded feehngs, but was 
 now only alarming. ' When I came,' she says, ' to 
 announce it to him, he exclaimed, " Ah, if they had 
 but o-iven me these fifteen months of the Arch- 
 bishop of Sens ! Now it is too late." He submitted 
 to the order of the King with sadness. Seeing my 
 joy, he remarked, " The daughter of a Minister has 
 only pleasure : she rejoices in the reflection of the 
 power of her father ; but the power itself is at pre- 
 sent more than ordinarily a terrible responsibility." ' 
 Slie, proudly beheving him equal to any exigency, 
 could not share his discouragement. She records 
 her extreme dehglit ; and so intense was it, that its 
 very excess excited her apprehension : it seemed too 
 precious to last, and ominous of coming evils. ' In 
 traversing the Bois de Boulogne, at niglit, on my 
 way to Versailles,' she says, ' I had a terrible fear 
 of being attacked by thieves ; for it seemed to me 
 tliat the happiness which the elevation of my 
 father caused me must be balanced by some cruel
 
 V. Neckers Restoration. 99 
 
 accident. The thieves did not attack me ; but 
 destiny justified, only too faithfully, my fears.' On 
 paying her homage to the Queen she found new 
 reason for anxiety. ' The niece of the displaced 
 Archbishop of Sens paid her court at the same 
 time. The Queen showed plainly, by her manner 
 of receiving us both, that she much preferred the 
 displaced Minister to his successor. The courtiers, 
 however, acted otherwise ; for never have so many 
 jDcrsons offered to conduct me to my carriage. The 
 disposition of the Queen became one of the greatest 
 obstacles that M. Necker had to encounter in his 
 official career. She had protected him during his 
 former ministry, but, whatever he did to concihate 
 her during the second, she considered him always 
 as nominated by public opinion, and princes in 
 arbitrary governments accustom themselves, unfor- 
 tunately, to regard public opinion as their enemy,' ^ 
 Meanwhile Necker 's restoration, though to him- 
 self hopeless, had an extraordinary effect on the 
 nation. In one day the funds rose thirty per cent. 
 Though only two hundred and fifty thousand 
 francs remained in the treasury, capitaHsts im- 
 mediatety offered considerable loans. ' Such an 
 effect,' exclaims his fond daughter, ' produced on 
 the pubhc credit, by confidence in a single man, is 
 without example in history.' But his anticipation 
 was correct ; it was now too late for any scheme to 
 save the nation from bankruptcy and revolution. 
 
 ^ Considerations &c, i. 12.
 
 lOO Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LITERATURE THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 Necker again in Office — First Publication of Madame de Stael — Letters 
 on Rousseau — Her Opinion of Literary Life — Madame Necker de 
 Saussure's Estimate of the Letters — Grimm's Criticism — Madame 
 de Stael's Sympathy "with the Revolution — Her Account of the 
 Opening of the States-General — Necker's Dismissal — His Trium- 
 phal Return — Letter from Mile. Huber — Riots of the People — 
 Necker finally retires. 
 
 Necker was recalled to office in August 1788. He 
 was now more than ever the idol of the nation. 
 The vague sense of impending disaster — the ge- 
 neral, though unacknowledged suspicion that the 
 national condition was hopeless, seemed to give way 
 before a man who, if he had not great abilities, 
 had nevertheless great character. Corrupt as the 
 nation was, it appeared to hope that virtue, if not 
 talent, might yet save it. Again the Minister's 
 family shone amidst the edats of Parisian life. 
 Again the Necker Holon was throncfed in the me- 
 tropohs and at St. Ouen. If the devoted wife, 
 thoughtful of coming events, moved more gravely, 
 more reticently, in the brilliant circle, the daughter, 
 the freshness and charms of whose girlhood were 
 only enhanced by her recent matronhood, became
 
 VI. 
 
 First Publication. loi 
 
 its liappy presiding genius. Proud of the restored 
 honour of her father, and hopeful of all things in 
 spite of all omens, exhilarated with genius and the 
 homage of distinguished men, she not only led its 
 conversations, but assumed there her first honours 
 as an author. 
 
 In the year of her father's restoration her 
 ' Letters on the Writings and Character of Eous- 
 seau ' were printed for private circulation. Only 
 twenty copies were issued, but it was reprinted 
 and published the next year. To us this Httle 
 volume is interesting as her first published work, 
 an index to her youthful mind. To herself it 
 always had another interest. In her second pre- 
 face, written more than a quarter of a century 
 later (1814), she says : ' It was published without 
 my avowal, and by this chance was I led into the 
 career of hterature. I cannot say that I regret it ; 
 for the cultivation of letters has afforded me more 
 consolations tlian chagrins. One's self-love must be 
 intense, if unfavourable criticism gives more pain 
 than eulogies give pleasure ; and, besides this plea- 
 sure, there is in the development and perfection 
 of one's mind a continual activity, an ever renewed 
 hopefulness, that the ordinary course of life never 
 affords. All things move towards declension in a 
 woman's hfe, except the power of thinking, the 
 immortal nature of which tends always to its own 
 elevation.' 
 
 After all deductions for its juvenile entliusiasm
 
 I02 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 and occasional excesses of style, this first of her 
 printed writings is a very remarkable production 
 for so young a mind. It Avas a sudden appa- 
 rition of a new star in the intellectual heavens. 
 However open to criticism, no critic could mis- 
 take its sicfnificance as an indication of rare 
 genius. Madame Necker de Saussure justly, and as 
 finely, remarks that ' in it we see all the vivacity 
 of a youthful intellect, and the highest charm 
 of such a mind, namely, both Avliat it is and 
 what it will be. There is deposited the germ of 
 all the opinions that Madame de Stael has since 
 developed. We see in it a thinker, a moralist, a 
 woman, who can paint the passions, though as yet 
 confusedly. She ranges over an immense field of 
 ideas ; she illustrates, in j^assing, a crowd of sub- 
 jects ; and though her steps are directed by those 
 of Eousseau, she accompanies him with a movement 
 so light and so rapid, she deviates from and surpasses 
 him so often, tliat one sees she has been prompted 
 rather than sustained by him. She always speaks 
 from the exuberance of her mind, yields to tlie un- 
 controllable expansion of her soul ; and we acknow- 
 ledge that if she had chosen anotlier theme she 
 might have written with as much facility and as 
 much eloquence. With whatever influence Eous- 
 seau inspires her, she maintains tlie independence 
 of her mind. She scatters her opinions profusely 
 with the graceful embarrassment of a young woman 
 who evidently fears that she has displayed too
 
 VI. Baron Gri7nm^s Opinion. 103 
 
 much force. In short, notwithstanding some imma- 
 ture judgments, she is ah^eady astonishingly her- 
 self in this book.' 
 
 Baron Grimm was favoured, as a guest of the 
 Necker salon^ with one of the twenty copies of the 
 first edition of the ' Letters.' His antipathy to 
 Rousseau, founded in jDersonal recollections, was 
 intense ; but he could not fail to admire the genius 
 of the young eulogist, and sent pages of her book 
 to his correspondents. ^ ' It is a production,' he 
 says, ' which in any circumstances, or by any 
 author, would be important ; but which is espe- 
 cially admirable as coming from a young woman 
 of twenty years.' He cites, as proofs, her criticism 
 on Eousseau's style, and her analysis of his several 
 works ; and especially the letter on his ' Emile,' 
 as ' presenting a crowd of fine and profound ideas.' 
 The first four letters cannot fail to excite the asto- 
 nishment of the reader by the extent and maturity 
 of mind they display ; but still more surprising, lie 
 thinks, is her criticism of the ' Contrat Social,' and 
 of similar speculations of Rousseau. Grimm can- 
 not withhold ' liis sentiments of admiration,' and 
 pronounces tlie book ' a charming work ; ' its cri- 
 tical judgments cannot, however, be accepted in 
 our day. Time lias determined more justly the 
 character and influence of Rousseau's writings ; 
 Madame de Stael herself woidd doubtless have 
 
 ' Some twelve pages of the Correspondance, Jan. 1789, part iii. 
 tome V. Buisson's edition of 1813.
 
 I04 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 given a very different estimate of them, had she 
 written the Letters in her maturer life. 
 
 Her sympathy with Ronssean's pohtical specn- 
 lations led her to sympathise with the early ten- 
 dencies of the Eevolution ; for Rousseau was the 
 oracle of the leaders of that great movement, and 
 his ' Contrat Social ' was their text-book. Funda- 
 mentally erroneous as his theory of government may 
 be, it nevertheless included many of the essential 
 principles of political justice and liberty, and never 
 had they been more clearly formulated, or more 
 enthusiastically advocated. Her young soul caught 
 his enthusiasm, and, like many of the best thinkers 
 of the period — like Jefferson and most of the Amer- 
 ican statesmen, and Fox and Mackintosh in Eng- 
 land — she saw, in the attempt of the French to 
 embody some of his doctrines in the Revolution, a 
 new epoch in history ; an epoch of liberation and 
 regeneration for Europe. She had, sadly enough, 
 to qualify her hopes amid the frantic excesses 
 which soon drove her from her country, but she 
 never materially qualified her opinions. She lived 
 and died an advocate of the rights of tlie people, 
 as co-ordinate with the rights of their rulers. She 
 was a conservative liberal, and never ceased to 
 assert the claims of hberty against the usurpations 
 and tyranny of Bonaparte. 
 
 Reinstated in the highest society of the metro- 
 pohs, an ambassador's wife, a minister's daughter, 
 and a recognised writer, she entered heartily into
 
 VI. 
 
 The States-General. lO^ 
 
 the political excitements and events of the day. 
 The meeting of the States-General, in May 1789, 
 was to her one of the most signal of these events. 
 In her volume on Eousseau she had anticipated it, 
 with patriotic enthusiasm ; and described ' the great 
 nation which was soon to assemble to consult on 
 its rights, as astonished at recovering, after two 
 centuries, the power to do so.' It was to achieve,^ 
 in peace, she beheved, what ' other nations had 
 reached only through fields of blood.' She invoked 
 the spirit of Rousseau to ' witness the imj)osing 
 spectacle that France was about to present of a 
 grand event, prepared in advance, and with which 
 for the first time no hazard would mingle.' This 
 was but six months before the session of the 
 assembly. 
 
 ' I shall never forget,' she says in her work on 
 the Revolution, ' the moment I saw the twelve 
 hundred deputies of France pass in procession to 
 the church to hear mass, on the eve of the open- 
 ing of the Convention. It was an imposing spec- 
 tacle, new to this generation of Frenchmen. All 
 the population of Versailles and eager multitudes 
 from Paris assembled to witness it. This novel 
 sort of authority in the State, the nature and 
 power of which they knew not yet, astonished 
 most of those who had not reflected on the rights 
 
 of nations.' '^ 
 
 It was indeed a splendid scene. ' From the 
 
 ^ Considerations Sec. i. 16.
 
 io6 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 church of St. Louis,' says Carlyle, ' to the church 
 of Notre-Dame, one vast suspended billow of life 
 — with spray scattered even to the chimney-tops ! 
 For on chimney-tops too, as over the roofs, and up 
 thitherwards on every lamp-iron, sign-post, break- 
 neck coign of vantage, sits patriotic courage, and 
 every window bursts with patriotic beauty ; for the 
 deputies are gathering at St. Louis' church to 
 march in procession to Notre-Dame, and hear 
 sermon. — This, the baptism day of Democracy, sick 
 Time has given it birth, the numbered months 
 having run. — The extreme unction day of Feudal- 
 ism. — The procession of processions advancing 
 towards Notre-Dame ; shouts rend the air, one 
 shout at whicli Grecian birds might drop dead. It 
 is indeed a stately solemn sight. Tlie Elected of 
 France, and then- the Court of France; they are 
 marshalled and march there, all in prescribed place 
 and costume. Our Commons in plain black mantle 
 and white cravat ; Noblesse in gold-worked, bright 
 dyed cloaks of velvet, resplendent, rustling with 
 laces, waving with plumes ; the Clergy in rochet, 
 alb, or other best pontificalities ; lastly, comes tlie 
 King himself, and King's household also, in their 
 brighest blaze of pomp, their brightest and final 
 one — some fourteen hundred men blown together 
 from all winds, on tlie deep errand.' ^ 
 
 ' I stood,' writes Madame de Stael, ' at a window 
 near Madame de Montmorin, wife of tlie Minister 
 
 ^ Carlyle's French Revolution, iv. 4.
 
 VI. Madame de Montmorin. 107 
 
 of Foreign Affairs, and abandoned myself — I ac- 
 knowledge it — to the most exidtant hope, in seeing 
 for the first time in France, Eepresentatives of the 
 JSTation. Madame de Montmorin said to me, with 
 an emphatic tone, "Do not rejoice ; out of this day 
 will arise frif^htful disasters to France and to lis." ' 
 The presentiments of this unfortmiate lady were 
 too true : she perished on the scaffold with one of 
 her sons ; another died prematurely by an accident ; 
 her husband was killed in the massacre of Septem- 
 ber ; her eldest daughter died in the hospital of a 
 prison ; and her only surviving child, an accom- 
 phshed, lovely woman, whom we shall hereafter 
 repeatedly meet, sunk under the weight of her 
 griefs before her thirtieth year. ' The family of 
 Niobe,' continues Madame de Stael, ' was not more 
 cruelly struck than that of this poor mother. One 
 would say she prophesied amidst the splendours of 
 the scene at Versailles.''* 
 
 The patriotic young writer witnessed, the next 
 day, the opening of tlie States-General, with en- 
 thusiasm unchecked by the forebodings of her 
 friend ; for her own father was a chief actor in 
 its proceedings, and, when he entered, ' was over- 
 whelmed witli applause.' His popularity was tlien 
 entire. But ' when the King came to present 
 liimself on the throne, in the midst of the assembly, 
 I experienced,' she says ' for the first time a presen- 
 timent of fear.' She remarked in tlio aspect and 
 
 ■* Considerations &c. i. 10.
 
 io8 Madame dc Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 bearing of the monarch, and of the Queen also, 
 somethmg that led her to apprehend discord be- 
 tween the Government and the deputies, and 
 disaster to the nation. These apprehensions were 
 too well-founded. Day by day ' confusion worse 
 confounded ' involved all public affairs. Necker's 
 counsels in the royal cabinet were overruled by 
 the influence of his enemies. He sent in his re- 
 signation, but the Government was too dependent 
 upon his popularity to accept it. The rumour of it 
 spread through Versailles ; and ' the streets,' writes 
 his daughter, ' were immediately filled with the 
 people shouting his name.' The King and the 
 Queen sent for him the same evening, and both 
 entreated him, for the ' safety of the State,' to re- 
 sume his place. The Queen added that the secu- 
 rity of the King's person depended on his return; 
 she promised solemnly to follow no other coun- 
 sels than his. This was then her intention, for the 
 popular demonstrations had alarmed her ; but, as 
 ' she always believed that any limitation of the 
 royal power would be a misfortune, she necessarily 
 fell again under the influence of those who thought 
 as she did.' 
 
 Necker returned, but with little or no other 
 hope than to mitigate rather tlian avert the coming 
 doom. The deputies, on hearing of the fact — all 
 the ' Third Estate,' the majority of the clergy, the 
 minority of the nobles — crowded his liouse to thank 
 him. ' I heard my father conjure the deputies of
 
 VI. Neckcr Dismissed. 1 09 
 
 the Third Estate,' -writes his daughter, ' not to 
 press their claims too urgently. " You are now the 
 most powerful," he said, "therefore you can afford 
 to be cautious." They wept as he pointed out to 
 them the condition of France and the good they 
 niii^ht do.' 
 
 But the reconciliation was transient. Tlie 
 Government only apparently favoured him till it 
 could make preparations by which it vainly sup- 
 posed it could repel the popular opposition and 
 dispense with his services. It adopted a measure 
 which at last proved its ruin. It concentrated its 
 foreign troops at hand, and ' on the 11th of July,' 
 writes his daughter, 'just as my father was sitting 
 down to dinner with a numerous company, the 
 IVIinister of Marine came to him, and calhng him 
 aside, gave him a letter from the King, who 
 ordered him to leave Paris, and to do so without 
 noise. He was exiled for the popular cause ; had 
 he been factious, the shghtest indication of his 
 feelings would have roused the people and pre- 
 vented his departure. Two hundred thousand 
 armed men would have shouted his name in the 
 streets of Paris and led him back in triumph. 
 His brotlier, myself, his most intimate friends, were 
 not apprised of his resolution. My mother, who 
 was in very feeble health, took no maid, no 
 travelling dress ^vith her. They mounted their 
 carriage under pretext of an evening drive, and 
 travelled day and night to Brussels. When I
 
 1 lo Madame de Stael. ch, 
 
 rejoined them there, three days hiter, they still 
 wore the same clothes in which they had departed 
 after a dinner, the numerous guests of which had 
 no suspicion that they were agitated in the shghtest 
 degree, and had now quietly separated themselves 
 from France, from their home, their friends, and 
 power. My father's clothes were all covered with 
 dust ; he bore an assumed name, that he might 
 not be recognised in France, and be retained by 
 the love of the people. All these circumstances 
 touched me to the quick ; I was penetrated with a 
 sentiment of respect which made me prostrate 
 myself before him, as I entered the inn where I 
 found him. Indeed, I have never ceased to experi- 
 ence this sentiment, in the smallest circumstances 
 of his domestic life as in the greatest events of his 
 public career.' ^ 
 
 Necker, accompanied by Baron de Stael, left 
 Brussels for Basle, followed soon after by his wife 
 and daughter ; but at Frankfort a messenger over- 
 took them w^th surprising news and urgent orders 
 from the King. Paris had received some intimation 
 of his departure, on the day that it occurred. An 
 insurrection broke out the very next day ; on the 
 following day the National Assembly voted that he 
 bore with him its esteem and regrets ; on the next, 
 the Bastile fell before the enraged people ; and the 
 trembhng Court recalled the Swiss heretic. But, 
 though he returned, it was too late ; the hurricane 
 
 ^ Z>w Caractere de Necker &c.
 
 VI. Neckers Rehirn. 1 1 1 
 
 of the Eevolution was rising, and its murmurs were 
 in all the air. 
 
 Allusion has already been made to the popular 
 enthusiasm with which he was escorted back to 
 Paris. There is a letter in Grimm's Correspondence 
 which details the splendid ovation, ' the most 
 beautiful spectacle,' he says, ' that I have ever seen,' 
 tlie liappiest witness of which was Necker's daughter, 
 as she rode in the procession with her father. ' A 
 host of cavalry, infantry, and citizens marched out 
 to meet him and conduct him to the Hotel de Ville. 
 It was one of those triumphal marches that we 
 read of in ancient history.' Several carriages bore 
 Necker and his family and friends — troops before, 
 troops behind, all carrying bouquets and branches 
 of laurel. The drums beat, the bands played ; the 
 flags of the overthrown Bastile, the banners of the 
 city guards and of tlie districts, were displayed in 
 the procession. They marched singing, and throw- 
 ing flowers in the air. The streets were crowded ; 
 all the windows were thronged witli applaudino- 
 women. ' Vive the great Minister ! God preserve 
 him!' resounded everywhere. ' It was one continual 
 acclamation, a universal intoxication.' At the 
 city hall, Lafayette his faithful friend, and Bailly 
 the mayor, received him in the grand hall; the 
 wife of Lafayette accompanying Madame Necker 
 and Madame de Stael thither. Congratulatory 
 speeches were made, and the great throng wept 
 like children at Necker's words. For an hour and
 
 112 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CH. 
 
 a lialf he was detained in the excited assembly, 
 and meanwhile a countless multitude thronged the 
 neighbouring streets, and greeted him, when he 
 appeared at tlie window, with the wildest acclama- 
 tions. ' They wept, and he seemed to them as 
 a god.' Such is popular enthusiasm. Like the 
 multitude which cried on one day, ' Hosannah in 
 the highest ! ' to the Son of God, and on another, 
 ' Crucify him ! ' this fickle people were soon to curse 
 the man whom they now hailed as their only 
 political saviour. • But again the innumerable host 
 — cavalry, infantry, citizens, with flowers, laurel 
 branches, flags, and music — take up their march, 
 and conduct him onward ; for he goes with his 
 family in his cortege^ to resume, amidst the mortified 
 courtiers, his high functions in the Government. 
 The Assembly vote, as he passes, that ' the day on 
 which this Minister, so beloved, so necessary, has 
 been restored to France, shall be ^ fete day,' and de- 
 clares ' an amnesty to its enemies.' This very cle- 
 mency, at which Necker gratefully wept, provoked 
 in a few hours the furious resentment of the people, 
 for it hberated prisoners for whose blood they 
 thirsted. France was morally as well as financially 
 ruined, and the atrocious horrors of the Ee volution 
 became inevitable. 
 
 But his daughter brushed aside all discomfort- 
 ing anticipations amidst the grateful excitements of 
 this proud day. She saw only the triumph of her 
 beloved father. ' What an interval of fehcity,' she
 
 VI. Necker's Trminph. \ 1 3 
 
 exclaims, ' was this journey back from Basle to 
 Paris, such as we made it after my father de- 
 cided to return. No one but a sovereign of a 
 nation ever made a similar passage. . . Alas ! it 
 was I, above all, who enjoyed it. It was I that 
 it intoxicated. I cannot be ungrateful for tliose 
 days, whatever has since been the bitterness of 
 my life. . . . Fifteen years have passed since that 
 time, and nothing has been able to efface this 
 impression, the most vivid of my life. . . There are 
 few women who liave the happiness of hearing the 
 name dearest to their affection thus repeated in 
 the acclamations of a nation, but they will not 
 contradict me Avhen I say that nothing can equal 
 the emotion excited by such circumstances. All 
 those faces which seem kindled by the same love 
 that animates your own heart ; those numberless 
 voices which resound through your soul ; the be- 
 loved name which rises on the air, and seems to 
 echo from tlie heavens after having swept through 
 the applause of the eartli ; the enthusiasm, the in- 
 describable electricity that multitudes communicate 
 to one another when excited by a common pas- 
 sion — these all appealing to one's love — love filial 
 or maternal — thrill the soul, and it succumbs to 
 emotions more powerful than itself'^ Describing- 
 tile festal pomps of the journey, slie entreats per- 
 mission to ' dwell upon this day ; ' and in concluding 
 her account of the transports of the people, writes, 
 
 ^ Du Caracth-e de M. Necker &c. 
 VOL. I. I
 
 1 1 4 Madavic de Stacl. ch, 
 
 ' I saw nothing else at this time, for my conscious- 
 ness was overpowered by my joy.' ' But,' she sadly 
 adds, ' it was the last day of the prosperity of my 
 life.' 7 
 
 Her present happiness was, however, too great 
 for painful apprehensions about the future. There 
 remains an unpubhshed letter, written with fa- 
 miliar freedom after the restoration of Necker, 
 by Mile. Huber to her family in Geneva, which 
 shows that the young authoress had lost little if 
 any of the vivacit}^ and abandon of her nature, 
 by the trying scenes through which she had passed 
 since their idyllic life in the woods of St. Ouen. 
 ' My sister asks,' she says, ' if I never see Madame 
 de Stael, as I never speak of her. I speak of her 
 no more than of eating or drinking, because the 
 one is as well understood as the other. During the 
 eleven years of my intimate acquaintance with her 
 there has never been an hour's coolness between us, 
 although we have often differed in opinion, and, in 
 consequence, disputed. Since her father's return 
 to the Ministry, I see her, if possible, more fre- 
 quently than ever, as we have more to talk about. 
 She does not write a line which I do not see — con- 
 cerning which she does not consult me ; and there 
 is nothing which I am not accustomed to blame, 
 to praise, or correct. For my part, I have all the 
 confidence in her which I ought to have. If 
 Madame de Stael had less levity of head, she would 
 
 ' Considerations, i. 23.
 
 VI. 
 
 Terrorisiu in Paris. 1 1 5 
 
 be, with the astonishing esprit which she possesses, 
 the most celestial creature that one could find on 
 the earth ; for, with intelhgence above all others, 
 she has a perfect heart but often an erring head. I, 
 who know her better than anyone else, and better 
 than she knows herself, often find her unique, 
 adorable — often blaniable, always extravagant and 
 charming. And this intiniac}-, througli which I 
 enjoy all the treasures of her mind and all the 
 good quahties of her heart, is, I assure you, one 
 of the charms of my life. She even spoils me for 
 the other women Avhom I meet ; none love me as 
 she does, and no one pleases me as she.' ^ 
 
 She was to pass through farther and severer 
 trials, which, if they were to give more sobriety to 
 her ' head,' were never to break her will or subdue 
 the romantic sensibility of her heart. 
 
 Her home was now in Paris, where the name of 
 the Swedish Embassy, on its front, was a protection 
 from the daily increasing tumults of tlie people. 
 Her parents were at the chateau of Versailles, to- 
 wards which the popular agitation constantly gra- 
 vitated. She was anxious for her father's safety, 
 notwithstanding his late popularity. On the 5th of 
 October, she was alarmed by the report that the 
 populace of the metropolis were thronging towards 
 Versailles. A spectacle was then presented such 
 
 * Familj' manuscripts of her relative, Prof. Rilliet de OandoUe, 
 Geneva. 
 
 I 2
 
 1 1 6 Maaame de Sta'cl. ch, 
 
 as had never been recorded in the history of the 
 world. An army of thousands of women, headed 
 by a drummer, and bearing with them, as their 
 cliief heroine and chief spokeswoman, a prostitute 
 seated on a cannon, with a hghted torch in her hand, 
 was marching out of the city through a rain storm. 
 Madame de Stael, to avoid the riotous procession, 
 hastened by another road, through the Bois de 
 Boulogne. She reached her parents' apartments, 
 which were connected with those of the King by a 
 long corridor, but tliey were absent. ' M. Necker,' 
 she says, ' had hastened to the King, and my 
 mother, alarmed by the news which had reached 
 her from Paris, had gone to the salon which is next 
 to that of the King, in order to share the fate of my 
 fatlier, whatever it might be. I followed her, and 
 found the salon crowded. The scene about the 
 palace was frightful — women and children armed 
 with pikes pressed on all sides. The lowest class 
 of the people were there, imbruted by fury and 
 drunkenness — an infernal host.' Lafayette led up 
 the National Guard, and, ' traversing the salon 
 where we were, entered the King's apartment, very 
 calm — I have never seen him otherwise. He came 
 forth from the King, reassuring us all.' They re- 
 mained on the spot till after midniglit, when tliey 
 retired, hoping that the crisis was passed. La- 
 fayette and his troops were supposed to be a suffi- 
 cient protection for the palace ; but a single passage 
 had been inadvertently left unguarded, and the
 
 VI. Scenes at Versailles. 1 1 7 
 
 mob with its assassins foiiucl entrance there at five 
 o'clock tlie next morning. ' At an early hour,' con- 
 tinues Madame tie Stael, ' the mother of Count de 
 Choiseul-Gauffier entered my chamber : she came, 
 in her fright, to seek refu^-e with me, thou2:h I had 
 never had the honour of seeing her. She informed 
 me that the assassins had penetrated to the ante- 
 chamber of the Queen, had massacred some of her 
 guards at her door, and that, awakened by their 
 cries, she had saved her own life only by flying to 
 the chamber of the King, through a secret passage. 
 I learned at the same time that my father had 
 already gone to the King, and my mother was get- 
 ting ready to follow him. I hastened to accompany 
 her. As we approached the royal apartments we 
 heard the discharge of fire-arms in the court-yard ; 
 and, in crossing the gallery, we saw on the floor 
 recent traces of blood. In the next salon w^e met 
 troops who shouted Vive Lafayette ! for he had 
 saved their lives. We passed througli these brave 
 men, but what a sight beyond ! The clamorous mul- 
 titude had demanded that the King should return 
 to Paris with them : he consented, and they were 
 shouting and firing their guns for joy, over their 
 success. The Queen appeared in the salon with 
 dishevelled hair and palUd features, but her whole 
 bearinoj was dif^nified.' Marie Antoinette, though 
 stricken with long-continued grief, was still beauti- 
 ful, and her soul was naturally heroic ; but she had 
 been maliciously slandered. She had reason to
 
 ■BOOH 
 
 1 1 8 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 fear their violence, for the court-yard bristled with 
 their arms. Her countenance revealed her appre- 
 hensions ; nevertheless, she courageously advanced 
 upon the balcony, leading her two children. La- 
 fayette, as generous as gallant, seized the moment 
 to concihate the ferocious multitude ; he stepped 
 to her side, and, kneeling, kissed lier hand. The 
 people, struck by the spectacle of their desolate 
 Queen and her children, and the gallantry of their 
 favourite General — ' the hero of two worlds ' — 
 ' shouted her name,' continues Madame de Stael, ' to 
 tlie very clouds. In returning from the balcony 
 the Queen approached my mother, and with sup- 
 pressed sobs said, " they force the King and myself 
 to go to Paris, with the heads of our body-guard 
 borne on their pikes." They were thus led into the 
 capital. We returned to Paris by another route, 
 by which we escaped the frightful spectacle. We 
 crossed the Bois de Boulogne : the day was one of 
 rare beauty ; tlie sun irradiated the scenery, not 
 leaving one sombre hue ; no external object re- 
 sponded to our sadness. How often this contrast, 
 between the beauty of nature and the sufferings 
 inflicted by man, is renewed in the course of life ! ' 
 They were then passing over tlie same road on 
 which she had accompanied lier father in the serene 
 moonlight, and witli inexpressible joy, at his return 
 to office, in 1788. How prophetically had he tlien 
 said to her, ' It is too late ! ' 
 
 I shall not discuss here tlie brief, final adminis-
 
 VI. Neckers Rchremcnt. 119 
 
 tration of Necker. That he was inadequate to the 
 exigency of the crisis need not be denied ; for 
 where on tlie earth could a man have been found 
 adequate to it ? There was now no practicable sal- 
 vation for France. It required the appropriation of 
 the church property, the confiscation of the estates 
 of the nobles, and the spohation of all Europe by 
 the armies of Napoleon, to restore her finances. If 
 Necker was not a great statesman, he was at least 
 a great financier, and he did what no other man in 
 France could have done to save the nation. But 
 it was ' too late.' His enemies were too mighty 
 for him. Some of the revolutionary leaders, par- 
 ticularly Mirabeau (whose character he justly 
 despised, but whose talents he did not appreciate), 
 turned against liira.^ The popular enthusiasm for 
 him subsided, or rather became demoniacal for 
 slaugliter at home and war abroad. Necker's 
 admirable wife saw better than he the coming 
 catastrophe. They had tasted the bitter fruits of 
 ambition ; lie had, as Gibbon wrote, attained the 
 most conspicuous position in Europe. She urged 
 
 ^ Mirabeau's hostility arose more from a moral than a political 
 antipathy. It began before he had ever seen Necker, but he knew 
 his character well. lie commenced a refutation of Necker's answer 
 to Oalonne, on the Finances, but gave it up because he found Necker's 
 figm'ss to be irrefutable ; he never acknowledged this reason, but his 
 most confidential friend, Dumont, knew it. Calonne had sustained 
 Mirabeau at Berlin. Claviere, the intimate associate and coadjutor of 
 Mirabeau, and the originator of the assu/nats, aspired to the place of 
 Necker, and stimulated the opposition of Mirabeau. Comp. chaps, i. 
 iii. and xx. of Dumont's Souvenirs sur Mirabeau. Paris, 1832.
 
 1 20 Madame ae Stacl. ch. 
 
 him to retire, and he had the good sense to 
 follow her advice. In l)iit little more than a year 
 after his last recall to power, he was fleeing before 
 the storm to his native countrj^ Twice was his 
 carriage arrested on the highway, by the mob, 
 which was noAv ready to sacrifice him among the 
 hecatombs of victims whose blood was about to 
 drench the land. He reached the frontier, and the 
 remainder of his hfe was spent in his beautiful 
 Swiss retreat, where he wrote numerous works, 
 and found consolation in the ever-increasing fame 
 of his daughter, whom Napoleon himself soon 
 recognised as a rival in the attention of Europe. 
 
 We have thus followed her somewhat parti- 
 cularly into the tragic arena of the Revolution, 
 because she is about to reveal to us, amidst its 
 sanguinary scenes, some of the best traits of a 
 truly heroic character.
 
 VII. N^ccker at Coppct. 121 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 MADAME DE STAEL's HEROISM IN THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 Necker at Ooppet — His Daughter's Correspoudence with him — Pari- 
 sian Society at this epoch — Influence of Woman — Madame de Stael 
 in the PerUs of the Revolution — Heroic Efforts for her Friends 
 — She is arrested — Terrorism in Paris — Her Escape to Ooppet. 
 
 Necker left France in September 1790. Madame 
 cle. Stael was too ill at the time to accompany him. 
 She had given birtii, about a week before, to her 
 first child, Augustus Baron de Stael (born August 
 31, 1790), who was to survive her, and to become 
 tlie defender of the memory of his grandfather and 
 the editor of his works. ^ As soon as she was able, 
 the young mother hastened to her father. ' I found 
 him,' she says, ' on his estate at Coppet, sad, thought- 
 ful, but without bitterness. In this retreat he de- 
 veloped a soul divine, a character every day more 
 pure, more noble, more sensible.' ^ Her intense 
 affection for him could not detain her at Coppet ; 
 lier family at Paris required her attention, and she 
 never felt at home in any other place than her 
 native city. Solitude especially was insupportable 
 
 ^ (Euvres completes, 15 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1820-21. 
 •^ Du Caractere de Necker.
 
 I 2 2 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 to her. ' He lived,' she writes, ' in a land which is 
 not my country ; where the sciences are much 
 more cultivated than literature. He felt keenly the 
 unhappiness that I experienced, in the struggle 
 between my tastes and the pain of leaving him, 
 even for a few months. He had always taken my 
 part against others ; he now took it against myself. 
 When I accused myself of not knowing how to 
 endure the loss of that emulation of thought and 
 of fame which doubles life and all one's forces, he 
 encouraged my predilection for France.' 
 
 On returning to Paris, she continued her inter- 
 course with him by correspondence. ' He often 
 told me,' she says, ' that my letters and conversation 
 were all that now kept up his connection Avith the 
 world. His active and penetrating mind excited 
 me to think, for the sake of the pleasure of talking 
 with him. If I observed, it was to communicate 
 my impressions to him. If I listened, it was to 
 repeat to him.' She A\^'ote to \\\\\\ constantly. It 
 was the task and felicity of her daily life. He 
 burned these letters, fearing that, if discovered 
 by the Government, tliey might compromise her. 
 Madame Necker de Saussure reii^rets their loss, 
 and says they excelled any of lier published pro- 
 ductions ; they were full of anecdotes, brilliant 
 passages, and profound reflections. 
 
 The charm of Parisian society, a fascination 
 with her down to the last day of lier life, was un- 
 abated, notwitli standing the popular tumults which
 
 VII. 
 
 Society in Paris. \2\ 
 
 now agitated tlie citj^ Contrary to wliat is gen- 
 erally supposed, the intellectual activity of the 
 ]netropolis was unusually brilliant, amidst the 
 fermentation of these times. It did not display 
 itself in literary productiveness, as in the imme- 
 iliately preceding period, when it was led by the 
 Encyclopasdists — by Voltaii-e, Eousseau, and a host 
 of others ; but it prevailed, with all the intensity 
 of the times, in the social circles, the salons. She 
 wrote, years later, that ' foreigners who have seen 
 it only since the downfall of Napoleon cannot con- 
 ceive of the attractions, the eclat of the society of 
 Paris. It can be affirmed with truth, that it has 
 never been so brilliant, nor so serious, as during 
 the first three or four jx^ars of the Eevolution — 
 from 1788 to the end of 1791. Political affairs 
 were still mostly in the hands of the higher classes ; 
 all the vigour of liberty and all the grace of the 
 old politeness were combined in their j)ersons. 
 The men of the tiers etat, distinguished by their 
 culture and their talents, joined themselves to these 
 gentlemen, who were prouder of their merit than 
 of the privileges of their rank ; and the greatest 
 social and pohtical questions ever agitated were 
 treated by minds the most capable of understanding 
 and discussing; them.' ^ She found, in tlie freedom 
 with which her sex was allowed to share these dis- 
 cussions, a special attraction for her o^vn supe- 
 rior faculties ; for, notwitlistanding the restriction 
 
 ^ Considerations, ii. 17.
 
 124 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 wliicli tlie French Salic traditions impose on wo- 
 men in the actual affairs of government, in no 
 otlier nation has the sex had more effective influ- 
 ence in politics. Woman has, in France, avenged 
 her privation of direct political power by a ten- 
 fold greater indirect power. ' In England,' con- 
 tinues Madame de Stael, ' women are accustomed 
 to be silent before men, Avhen political questions 
 are discussed ; in France they direct all conversa- 
 tion, and their minds readily acquire the facihty 
 and talent which this privilege requires.' She 
 herself had already wielded this indirect influence 
 in the administration of her father. The guests 
 of the Necker salon had felt her power. Lafay- 
 ette, Sieyes, Lally-Tollendal, Narbonne, Talleyrand, 
 and other popular leaders, were her intimate 
 friends, and sought her counsel. She wrote ' the 
 most important part ' of Talleyrand's Eeport on 
 Public Instruction in 1790, and had procured the 
 appointment of Narbonne to the Ministry. She is 
 hereafter to procure the recall of Talleyrand from 
 exile and his appointment to the department of 
 Foreign Affairs ; to gather in her salon^ and become 
 the oracle of, the opposition to the usurpations 
 of Napoleon ; and, through Benjamin Constant and 
 others, to influence parties more or less down to 
 the end of her life. 
 
 On returning to the capital she plunged into its 
 social and political discussions. But events followed 
 one another swiftly and appallingly ; the mob tri-
 
 VII. 
 
 The Revolution. 125 
 
 lunplied ; and enormities at which the world still 
 shndders were of almost daily occurrence. Her 
 character, as wife of the ambassador of Sweden, was 
 still her protection ; and she witnessed, not with- 
 out a painful sort of fascination, the rapid and 
 frightful progress of the Eevolution — tlie dissolu- 
 tion of the Constituent Assembly ; the session and 
 failure of the Legislative Assembly — the pompous 
 ratification and royal acceptance of the Constitu- 
 tion ; the utter failure of the Constitution ; tlie 
 march of tlie Marseillais upon Paris ; the attack on 
 the Tuileries ; the assassination of the Swiss Guard ; 
 the downfall of the monarchy and the imprisonment 
 of the royal family in the Temple ; the beginning 
 of the atrocities of the guillotine ; the September 
 massacres — tlie infatuation and the madness of the 
 metropolis, the outburst of general war in Europe, 
 ' drilled Europe against mad undrilled France ' ^ 
 — the reign of terror, and the cry, throughout the 
 land, Aux armes ! Marchons ! 
 
 Meanwhile the daily increasing tumults of the 
 capital admonished her to provide for her own 
 safety. The Government of Sweden suspended its 
 embassy in 1792 ; her husband was in Holland ; it 
 was again necessary for her to fly, but she delayed 
 in order to save her friends. Before midnio-ht of 
 the 9th of August, the forty-eight tocsins of Paris 
 began to sound, and continued their alarms from 
 steeple to steeple, without a moment's intermission, 
 
 ^ Carlyle's Revolution, iii. 1.
 
 126 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 till after the dawn. ' I was,' she writes, ' at my 
 window, and every quarter of an hour tlie volun- 
 teer patrols of the constitutional party sent us 
 news. They said tliat the faubourgs were advanc- 
 ing, led by Santerre and Westermann. No one 
 could foresee what might liappen the next day, 
 and no one could be sure of living beyond a day. 
 There were, nevertheless, some moments of hope 
 during; this frii^htful ni2;ht. We flattered ourselves 
 with it. I know not why ; perhaps because we 
 had exhausted fear. Suddenly, at seven o'clock, 
 the noise of the cannon was heard.' They were 
 attackiniT the Tuileries, and butcherincf the Swiss 
 Guards. ' News was brought me that all my friends 
 who had been guarding the palace were seized 
 and massacred. I went forth immediately to learn 
 more of their fate. Tlie coachman who conducted 
 me was stopped on tlie bridge by men who as- 
 sured him that our throats would be cut on the 
 other side. After two hours spent in useless 
 efforts to pass, I learned that those who most 
 interested me still lived, but that most of them had 
 to conceal themselves in order to escape the pro- 
 scription with wJiicli tliey were menaced.' Not- 
 withstanding the terror which prevailed in all tlie 
 streets, she went forth in the evening, on foot, to 
 visit them, at the obscure houses where they were 
 hidden. She found armed men and women, asleep 
 with drunkenness, before the doors, lialf-waking at 
 times only to utter execrations and obscenities.
 
 VII. 
 
 Her Heroism. 127 
 
 Orderly people were everywhere fleeing at the 
 approach of the patrols, for the latter were but the 
 servants of the assassms, seeking new victims. 
 Slie drops her pen over the terrible recital, ' for 
 one cannot have the resolution to continue such 
 pictures.' ^ 
 
 From 10th August to 2nd September new 
 arrests were made almost every instant. Tiie 
 seven prisons of Paris are all crowded. Danton 
 and Marat have full sway. The victims are ex- 
 amined by a sort of mock trial, and, under pretext 
 of being sent to the prison of the Abbaye, are con- 
 fronted at the gates by piles of ghastly dead bodies, 
 and by crowds of infuriated men and women, 
 armed with axes, knives, swords, and pikes, who 
 strike them down and cast them on the reeking 
 lieaps. Well might anyone, especially a sensitive 
 woman, flee ap})alled from these scenes of peril and 
 horror ; but Madame de Stael stayed to rescue her 
 friends, though alone, with her servants, in lier 
 house. Among these friends, Narbonne, Montmo- 
 rency, and Baumets, were particularly in danger. 
 They had to conceal themselves in separate pri- 
 vate houses, and it was necessary to change their 
 liiding places daily. She offered them asylum in 
 her own mansion, but they declined it, fearing 
 the danger to which it would expose her. At last 
 two of them were compelled to take refuge with 
 her, as no citizen would farther risk liis hfc and that 
 
 ^ Coftmderations, iii. 0, 10.
 
 128 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 of his family by receiving them. She shut them 
 up in the least exposed chamber of the house, 
 revealed the secret to but one of her servants, and 
 passed the night watching at her front window, 
 expecting every moment the ' domiciliary visit ' of 
 the patrols. One morning a servant reported to 
 her that a placard at the nearest corner showed 
 the assassins were seeking M. de Narbonne, one of 
 the two friends under her roof. In a few moments 
 the dreaded domiciliary visit was made. Nar- 
 bonne, if discovered, must have perished the same 
 day; and, Avhatever precautions she had taken, she 
 knew he could not escape if the search should be 
 thoroughly made. ' It was necessary, therefore,' 
 she writes, ' to prevent the search. I collected all 
 my forces, and I felt in these circumstances that we 
 can always control our emotions, however violent 
 they may be, when we know that they expose the 
 life of another. In seeking the proscribed in all 
 the houses of Paris, the authorities employed men 
 of the lowest, the most ignorant class ; military 
 guards were stationed at each extremity of the 
 street, while these ruffians searched the dwellin<j;s. 
 I began by alarming them with the consequences 
 of violating an ambassador's house. The common 
 people must be subdued at once, or not at all ; 
 there are no gradations in their sentiments or their 
 ideas. Perceiving that my arguments impressed 
 them, I had tlie courage, with death in my heart, 
 to treat tliem with ])leasantries. Nothing is more
 
 mm 
 
 VII. Rescues her Friends. 129 
 
 agreeable to men of this class than humour, be- 
 cause, in spite of their fury against the higher 
 classes, they are delighted to be treated by the 
 latter as equals. I thus conducted them to the 
 door, and thanked God for the extraordinary 
 strength which He had given me at this critical 
 moment. Nevertheless, this situation could not 
 be prolonged ; for the least hazard might ruin a 
 proscribed man, like Narbonne, who was well 
 kno^vn by his recent connection with the Ministry.' 
 
 She did not rest till she had saved him. A 
 generous Hanoverian, Dr. Bollmann, known later 
 by his endeavours to rescue Lafayette from his 
 Austrian prison, offered, from no other motive than 
 his enthusiastic humanity, to conduct Narbonne to 
 England with the passport of a friend. It was at 
 the risk of his own hfe that the brave Hanoverian 
 undertook this difficult task ; for it was death to 
 any foreigner to be detected in helping away a 
 proscribed Frenchman. In four days Narbonne 
 was safe in London. 
 
 Madame de Stael had obtained the necessary 
 passport for her passage, with her family, into 
 Switzerland, where her parents anxiously expected 
 her ; but more of her friends were in danger, and 
 she courageously delayed from day to day in order 
 to save them. On the last day of August, M. de 
 Jaucourt, a deputy to the Legislative Assembly, 
 and M. de Lally-Tollendal, were sent to the 
 Abbaye. To be sent to that prison meant assas- 
 
 VOL . I. K
 
 130 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 sination. Lally escaped this fate by his generosity 
 and his talents. He pleaded the cause of one of his 
 fellow prisoners before the tribunal with so much 
 skill and eloquence, as not only to obtain his 
 acquittal, but to interest the Court in his own be- 
 half, and, by the aid of Condorcet and the British 
 ambassador, he was saved. But Jaucourt had no 
 other lielp than that of Madame de Stael. She 
 looked over the hst of the members of the Com- 
 mune of Paris, then its masters. ' I knew them,' 
 she says, ' only by their terrible reputation, and 
 I sought, at hazard, a motive to determine my 
 choice. I at once recollected Manuel among them, 
 a man who made some pretensions to literature, for 
 he had published " Letters of Mirabeau," with a 
 preface, poor enough indeed, but showing some 
 literary vanity.' She hoped to be able to touch 
 this susceptibility, and requested, by letter, an 
 interview with him. He appointed the next morn- 
 ing at eleven o'clock. She was punctual to the 
 time, but had to wait an hour for him, in his study. 
 Observing his portrait hanging over his desk, she 
 indulged still stronger hope of making an impres- 
 sion upon him. ' He entered,' she writes, ' and I 
 ought to do him the justice to say that it was by his 
 good sentiments alone that I was able to move him. 
 I painted to him the frightful uncertainties of po- 
 pularity, proofs of which were of daily occurrence. 
 " In six months," I said, " you may no longer have 
 power. Save Lally and Jaucourt. Eeserve for
 
 Her Heroism. 131 
 
 yourself a sweet and consoling recollection for the 
 time when you may be proscribed." ' She hardly 
 needed prescience, in these terrible times, to be 
 able to make such a prediction ; in less than six 
 months Manuel perished on the scaffold. ' He was,' 
 she adds, ' a susceptible man, led by his passions, 
 but sensitive to honourable motives.' He could not 
 resist the pathetic appeal of Necker's daughter. 
 He knew her reputation ; she stood before him with 
 the charms of her talents and her young woman- 
 hood, for she was now only about twenty-six years 
 old. She was to him not only a woman, a genius, 
 but a heroine. He yielded, and the next day wrote 
 to her that Condorcet had obtained the liberation 
 of Lally, and he himself had released Jaucourt, in 
 answer to her entreaties. 
 
 It was now high time that she sliould make her 
 own escape, for the delirium of the city was hourly 
 rising and spreading. It was on the next day that 
 the frightful massacre of September took place : 
 the murder of the prisoners, in which two thousand 
 and eighty-nine, including two hundred and two 
 priests, were butchered. It required the more 
 than manly, the superhuman moral courage, which 
 sometimes reveals itself in woman, to face the hor- 
 rors of that day. But the heroic young matron, 
 though suffering again from the premonitory debility 
 and anxieties of maternity, confronted the universal 
 madness to save another life. She liad made pre- 
 parations to depart that morning. The tocsins were 
 
 K 2
 
 132 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 resounding over the city from the forty-eight spires. 
 ' Terror,' says the historian, ' terror in the streets, 
 terror and rage, tears and frenzy ; tocsin miserere 
 peahng through the air.' ^ 
 
 She had promised to take the proscribed Abbe 
 de Montesquiou, disguised as one of her servants, 
 from beyond the barrier to Switzerland, though 
 the penalty for her generosity was death. She had 
 given him the passport of one of her domestics, 
 and they had agreed on the place where she was 
 to meet him on the road. Were she to fail, the 
 patrols, everywhere guarding the roads, would 
 probably detect him. She committed a grave 
 error in the outset. Supposing that her rank as 
 wife of a foreign ambassador could protect her, 
 she started in a carriage with six horses, and with 
 her servants in livery. ' It was,' she says, ' a mis- 
 fortune, for at such a time it is necessary not to 
 strike the imagination of the people : the poorest 
 postchaise would have been safer. Hardly had 
 my horses made four steps, when we were sur- 
 rounded by a crowd of haggard women. They 
 threw themselves against the horses, crying that 
 we ought to be arrested, as bearing away the gold 
 of the nation to aid its enemies. Their clamours 
 drew the mob around us, men of ferocious aspect, 
 who seized the postilions, and ordered them to 
 conduct us to the Assembly of the quarter in which 
 we resided — the Faubourg Saint Germain. In 
 
 " Oarlyle, French Revolution, iii. 1.
 
 VII. Princesse de Laniballe. 
 
 aa 
 
 descending from the carriage, I seized the oppor- 
 tunity of whispering to the servant of the Abbe 
 Montesquiou to report to him our misfortune.' 
 
 She entered the Assembly, and found it a scene 
 of the utmost confusion. Its president declared that 
 she was denounced as attempting to carry away 
 proscribed enemies of the Government, and that 
 her people must be examined. He perceived that 
 one of them, mentioned in her pass]Dort, was not 
 among them, — the one she had sent to the Abbe 
 de Montesquiou. In consequence of this fact she 
 was sent to the Hotel de Ville. ' Nothing,' she says, 
 * could be more frightful than this order. It was 
 necessary to traverse half of Paris to reach the Hotel 
 de Ville ; and on the steps of this building many 
 persons had been massacred, on the 10th of August.' 
 She came near being the first feminine victim of 
 the Eevolution, in Paris, for no woman had yet 
 perished there in the horrors of these times ; but 
 on the very next day the beautiful Princesse de 
 Lamballe was assassinated. Led forth from her 
 mock trial by two ruffians, she recoiled from the 
 opening door, at the sight of heaps of dead and 
 lacerated bodies. Her conductors pressed her 
 forward. A drunken brute struck her with his 
 sabre above her eyes ; the blood flowed down her 
 face, and her long hair fell upon her shoulders ; 
 she was fainting, but her supporters dragged her 
 onward among the bleeding victims. She was struck 
 again, with a bludgeon, on the back of her head,
 
 134 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 and fell, happily insensible, upon a pile of corpses. 
 The mob tore off her clothes and dismembered 
 her body with diabolical jeers and obscenities. 
 They cut off her head, and bore it on a pike 
 through the streets. For two hours her mutilated 
 corpse lay exposed amidst their brutal revelry. It 
 was hewed into pieces, which were borne about as 
 reeking trophies. One of her legs Avas fired from 
 a cannon. Her heart was cut out and carried on 
 the point of a sabre, along with her head, in what 
 has been called an ' infernal promenade,' under 
 the prison window of Marie Antoinette, at the 
 Temple. Such was the demoniacal madness of this 
 day ; such the possible fate that the daughter of 
 Necker escaped by less than twenty-four hours. 
 Womanly virtue and beauty have, perhaps, never 
 suffered baser, more hideous insult, than in the 
 person of the Princesse de Lamballe ; at least, his- 
 tory has never dared to record an equally atrocious 
 example. 
 
 Madame de Stael says of the common people- 
 who thronged her passage to the Hotel de Ville,, 
 that their ' fury was now such that all eyes seemed 
 to demand blood.' It required three hours for her 
 carriage to make its way through the tumultuous 
 streets. The armed mob assailed her with cries 
 of ' Death.' Her aristocratic equipage excited 
 their vengeance. She appealed to the gendarmes 
 in the throng for protection, but they responded in 
 derisive and menacing language. ' I was pregnant,'
 
 VII. Before Robespierre. 135 
 
 she says, ' but this did not cause them to relent ; 
 on the contrary, they were the more irritated as 
 they felt themselves to be the more culpable.' The 
 gendarme who had been placed in her carriage was, 
 however, touched with sympathy for her, and pro- 
 mised to defend her at the peril of his hfe. Arriv- 
 ing at the Place de Greve, in front of the Hotel 
 de Ville, she passed under an arch of pikes and 
 ascended the stairs, which were lined on each side 
 with lancers. A ruffian thrust his weapon at her, 
 but her gendarme averted it with his sabre. ' Had 
 1 fallen at this moment,' she writes, ' I should 
 have been killed, for it is the nature of the mob to 
 finish a fallen victim.' She stood at last in the hall 
 before Robespierre. It was full of men women, and 
 children, infuriated and shouting Yive la Nation! 
 She pleaded her right to depart as ' Ambassadress 
 of Sweden.' Such a plea might have availed her 
 httle, but, fortunately, Manuel appeared at this 
 moment in the hall. Surprised to find her there, 
 he pledged himself to be responsible for her till 
 the Commune should decide her fate, and led her 
 and her women out of this miserable place into 
 his own office, where she remained six hours, 
 suffering from hunger and thirst, and seeing, from 
 the windows, the assassins return from the prisons 
 with bare and bloody arms. They converted the 
 Place into a hell by their horrible yells and orgies. 
 The mob attempted to pillage her carriage, but 
 a stout man in the dress of the JSTational Guard
 
 1 36 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 mounted to the coachman's box, and there spent two 
 hours in defending her luggage. She could not 
 imagine who he could be ; but in the evening he 
 accompanied Manuel to his apartment, when she 
 perceived that he was Santerre, the brewer, so noted 
 in the tumults of the times, and later and for ever 
 infamous as superintending the execution of Louis 
 XVI. and ordering his drummers to drown, by their 
 noise, the last words of the unfortunate monarch. 
 Santerre had witnessed the distribution of corn 
 provided by Necker for the poor of the Faubourg 
 Saint Antoine, in a time of famine ; and now re- 
 membered the generosity of the father in favour 
 of the daughter. 
 
 Manuel, unwilling to expose himself, or her, to 
 the mob during the day, conducted her to her 
 home in the night. The street lamps were not 
 hghted, but men bearing torches cast a weird chiaro- 
 scuro upon the scene, and frequently stopped him, 
 demanding who he was ? ' The Procureur of the 
 Commune ' was his answer ; and he was permitted 
 to pass on. 
 
 Manuel prepared for her a new passport, but 
 it permitted no one to accompany her besides a 
 single female servant. A (jendarme was promised 
 to conduct her to the frontier. Tlie next day 
 Tallien, who afterwards delivered France from 
 Eobespierre, called to see her safely beyond the 
 barrier. 'At every step we learned,' she writes, 
 ' of new massacres. Many persons thoroughly
 
 VII. 
 
 She escapes. 137 
 
 compromised were still concealed in my house. I 
 entreated Tallien not to expose tliem ; he promised 
 that he would not, and kept his promise. I entered 
 my carriage with him ; and, separated from my 
 friends, without our being able mutually to express 
 our thoughts, the circumstances froze the words 
 on our hps. I encountered yet, in the environs of 
 Paris, difficulties of which I will not speak ; but, as 
 I hastened on my route, the fury of the tempest 
 gradually abated, and in the mountains of the Jura 
 nothing recalled the frightful agitation of Paris.' 
 Prom their heights she beheld, below her, a pic- 
 ture which could not fail to restore serenity to her 
 soul, the picture which she first saw in her travels 
 in 1784 — Lake Leman, placidly ghttering in the 
 early autumn sun, and shut in by the ' everlasting 
 hills ' which guard it in their tranquil majesty ; 
 and, amidst the quiet homes of vintagers, the spa- 
 cious walls of the chateau of Coppet, where afiec- 
 tionate hearts, after long and anxious waiting, were 
 about to welcome her to their own safety and 
 peace. The change was to her as a transition from 
 hell to heaven. 
 
 She thus escaped out of the very vortex of 
 the Eevolution. During the dismal four years 
 since the publication of her Letters on Eousseau 
 she had no time nor disposition to attempt any 
 literary work. It would have been sacrilege, she 
 says, to have thought of literary ambition. The 
 disasters of her country, and the perils of her
 
 13S Madame de Stae I ch. 
 
 friends, absorbed her entire attention. They were 
 years, however, of important mental and moral 
 growth to her. She had studied humanity in 
 some of its worst and best revelations. She had 
 witnessed its basest crimes and its noblest heroism, 
 and she had herself become heroic.
 
 VIII. 
 
 At Coppet. 139 
 
 CHAPTEE Vm. 
 
 AT COPPET. 
 
 Coppet — Madame de Stael rescues Acliille du Cliayala — Mathieu de 
 Montmorency — Fate of his Family — Scenery of Lake Leman — 
 Lacretelle on the Heroism of Madame de Stael. 
 
 Peacefully sheltered in the chateau at Coppet, 
 Madame de Stael immediately became its clidte- 
 laine, the priestess of its abundant hospitalities. 
 Her mother was sinking under infirmities which 
 the anxieties of her Parisian life had aggravated 
 beyond hope of relief. For a long time she had 
 suffered from a nervous malady which seriously 
 incommoded her in the society of her salon., and 
 which was to end her days in about four years 
 after the arrival of her daughter. 
 
 Though Madame de Stael Avas herself in dehcate 
 health, she forgot herself in her interest for her 
 imperilled friends. She could bear any affliction of 
 her own better than her painful sympathy with 
 the sufferings of others. The latter was unendur- 
 able to her sensitive nature. Excepting an in- 
 terval of a few months which she spent in Eng- 
 land, she made the Coppet mansion, during the
 
 140 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 ' Eeign of Terror,' an asylum for Frenchmen who 
 were fleeing from the guillotine. They were 
 ' friends of liberty,' as she calls them,'7\vho had 
 favoured the Kevolution, but who now, in its atro- 
 cious excesses, were, like the ' emigrant ' nobles, 
 under its relentless proscription. Her husband 
 had aided her generous efforts to save them, by 
 giving them Swedish names, which were inserted 
 in their passports, and were strictly used in their 
 familiar intercourse at Coppet. ' Scaffolds,' she 
 says, ' were prepared for them on the frontiers of 
 their own country, and persecution of every kind 
 awaited them in foreign lands.' 
 
 An example will show her devoted sympathy 
 for these sufferers. Achille du Chayala, a nephew 
 of Count Jaucourt to save whom we have seen 
 her risking her life at Paris, was endeavouring to 
 escape to Switzerland. She sent him a Swiss pass- 
 port bearing an assumed name, with which he had 
 nearly reached the frontier, but he was arrested 
 in the village of Moret, at the foot of the Jura 
 mountains, the authorities suspecting that his real 
 name was not on the j^assport. He was imprisoned 
 until they could ascertain, from a magistrate in 
 Nyon, whether he was a citizen of Switzerland or 
 not. M. de Jaucourt was then at Coppet, bearing 
 a Swedish name ; on hearing of the danger of his 
 nephew he was in despair, for the young man not 
 only bore a false passport, but was of a well-known 
 aristocratic family, and a son of one of the chiefs of
 
 VIII. 
 
 Saves a Friend. 141 
 
 the emigrant army of Conde. Were his real name 
 discovered, he would be immediately executed. 
 Jaucourt appealed to his hostess to rescue the 
 youth. She saw but one hope for him : could she 
 induce M. de Eeverdil, a functionary of Nyon, to 
 claim him as a native of the Canton de Vaud, he 
 might be saved. She hastened to Eeverdil. ' He 
 was,' she remarks, ' an old friend of my parents, 
 and was one of the best cultivated and best 
 esteemed men of this part of Switzerland. He 
 refused my plea at first, making the gravest ob- 
 jections. He scrupled to disguise the truth for 
 any reason whatever ; and, moreover, he was 
 afraid of compromising his country by a false offi- 
 cial act. " If the truth should be discovered in this 
 case," he said, " I could no longer have the right 
 to reclaim our own countrymen who might be 
 arrested in France. I should thus expose those 
 who are confided to my official care for a man 
 who has no legal claim on us." This was a very 
 plausible argument, but I pleaded for an innocent 
 man over whose head was suspended the mur- 
 derous axe. I remained two hours with M. de 
 Eeverdil, endeavouring to conquer his scruples by 
 his humanity ; he long resisted me, but, when I 
 repeated to him many times, " If you say no, an 
 only son, a man without reproach, will be assas- 
 sinated within twenty hours, and your own word 
 slays him," my emotion, or rather his, triumphed 
 over every other consideration, and the young
 
 142 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 Cliayala was saved. It was the first time in my 
 life that two apparent duties were opposed to 
 each other ; but I think still, as I thought then, 
 that the present and certain danger of the victim 
 ought to have more force, as an argument, than 
 the uncertain dangers of the future. There is not 
 in the brief space of existence a greater chance of 
 good than that of saving the life of an innocent 
 man.' ^ She believed that, in a case like this, de- 
 ception is as admissible as it would be in war, or 
 in the treatment of a highway assassin, or lunatic. 
 Du Chayala, being claimed by the Swiss official, 
 was liberated, and found shelter among the nume- 
 rous exiles of Coppet. 
 
 Among these refugees was Mathieu de Mont- 
 morency, of one of the most distinguished famihes 
 of France. He had fought for the colonies in the 
 American War of Independence, and had actively 
 and early favoured the Revolution in his own coun- 
 try, but, like Lafayette and many other patriots, 
 he had turned away from its horrors, and was now 
 under its proscription. Sympathising with the 
 political opinions of Madame de Stael, he was at- 
 tached to her by a friendship which was to sur- 
 vive important changes in his own pohtics, and to 
 be shared, through many years, with her dearest 
 female friend, Madame Eecamier, in scenes of com- 
 mon sufferings and common happiness. His subse- 
 quent public services to his country, his hterary 
 
 ^ Considerations, iii. 18.
 
 VIII. The Montmorency Family. 143 
 
 culture, his profoundly religious spirit, and the lono- 
 life in which he outhved most of his associates of 
 these troubled times, render him one of the most 
 interesting characters in the Coppet portrait gallery. 
 * Alas I ' exclaims Madame de Stael, ' I was not 
 always so happy in my relations with my friends 
 as in the case of Du Chayala. It was necessary for 
 me to announce, about a month after, to a man the 
 most capable of affection, and, therefore, of pro- 
 found suffering, Mathieu de Montmorency, the 
 sentence of death pronounced against his young 
 brother, the Abbe de Montmorency, whose only 
 crime was the illustrious name he received from his 
 ancestors. At the same time the wife and mother- 
 in-law of M. de Montmorency were equally menaced 
 with death, for in a few days all prisoners were, 
 at this frightful period, sent to the scaffold.' All 
 these members of the illustrious family of Mont- 
 morency perished immediately by the guillotine. 
 Mathieu de Montmorency was saved only by his 
 timely escape to his friend at Coppet. 
 
 Though the numerous guests of the chateau 
 were beyond immediate danger, they suffered in- 
 cessant anxiety for their absent kindred, and were 
 saddened by daily reports of new executions. 
 Madame de Stael could not but feel the contrast 
 between these horrors and the serene beauty of 
 the scenes around her. 'One of the reflections 
 which struck us most,' she remarks, ' in our lono- 
 promenades on the shores of Lake Leman, was the
 
 144 Madame de Sta'dl. ch. 
 
 contrast between the enchanting scenery, radiant 
 with the splendid sun of the last days of June, and 
 the despair of man, who would wish the very sun 
 itself to sympathise with his sufferings and share 
 his mourning. We were in utter discouragement. 
 The younger we were, the less were we resigned ; 
 for in youth, above all, one expects happiness, and, 
 claiming it as a right, revolts at the idea of faihng 
 to attain it. It was nevertheless in these moments 
 while we looked in vain to the sky and the flowers, 
 inwardly reproaching them for illuminating and per- 
 fuming the air in presence of so much misery, that 
 the time of our dehverance was preparing.' The 
 ninth of Thermidor was approaching, when Eobes- 
 pierre and his fellow assassins were to fall, and ' in- 
 expressible joy thrill the heart of France : ' the joy 
 of dehverance from almost universal murder — ' for 
 poor human nature,' she adds, ' knows no higher 
 happiness than that of the cessation of suffering.' 
 
 Lacretelle, the liistorian, in an eloquent chap- 
 ter on ' The Heroism of Women during the Eeign of 
 Terror,' exclaims : ' While blood flowed in torrents 
 in Paris and other cities, who dared to gather and 
 conceal for long periods the innumerable proscribed 
 persons of the 10th of August, and associated them- 
 selves with their fate ? — Never is woman more beau- 
 tiful than when she accomplislies a good and great 
 action. Behold Madame de Stael watching, from 
 the 10th of August even to the days of September, 
 over the illustrious men, conquered on the 10th —
 
 VIII. 
 
 yacques Treboux, 145 
 
 Narbonne, Montmorency, Jaucoiirt, and many 
 others. Both her genius and her fortune are con- 
 secrated to friendship and pity. Even in the chateau 
 at Coppet, crowded by the friends whom she has 
 saved, she watches still over those who remain in 
 the gulf She knows certain asylums for them, and 
 sends guides to lead them across France, throuiJi;h 
 the continuous hues of the revolutionary commit- 
 tees. She, who had elevated herself to an intellec- 
 tual height known to few men, studied now but 
 one art — that of achieving, against crime, the 
 most noble and most salutary of contraband acts. 
 Coppet becomes a common asylum for emigres^ 
 voluntary and involuntary. Neither she nor her 
 father cares for opinions in the presence of misfor- 
 tune. Ah ! history is not large enough for the 
 full commemoration of such hospitable devotion.' ^ 
 Lacretelle himself had been in peril of the guillo- 
 tine, and, after two years of imprisonment, owed 
 his deliverance to Madame de Stael. 
 
 Jacques Treboux was her heroic agent in these 
 merciful services. He was famihar with the moun- 
 tain passes. He made many voyages from Coppet 
 to Paris, charged with missions from the refugees 
 of the chateau. He conducted across the Juras, 
 to Coppet, many a compromised person. Mallet 
 d'Hauteville has made him a character in a novel 
 founded on the memories of Coppet. ° 
 
 - Testament rhilosophique et Littcraire, ii. :?(^ 2 vols. Paris, 1840. 
 ^ Gaullieur's Etrennes Nationales. Lausaime, 1845. 
 VOL. I. L
 
 T46 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 m ENGLAND — THE EOYAL EXECUTIONS. 
 
 The French Mickleham Colony — Fanny Biu-ney — Life at Mickleham 
 — The Burney Letters — Necker and the King's Death — Madame de 
 Stael pleads for the Queen — Execution of the Queen — Madame de 
 Stael writes for Peace — Her Politics. 
 
 Early in 1793 Madame de Stael made her first 
 visit to England. Most of the French emigres 
 had gone beyond the Ehine, and were in arms 
 against the Government ; not a few had taken 
 refuge in England. They had hitherto been 
 chiefly of the aristocratic classes : nobles, clergy, 
 Government functionaries — original opponents of 
 the Eevolution. For some time, however, another 
 class of refugees had been thronging to every 
 accessible foreign asylum : men who had been 
 active in the inception of the Eevolution, but had 
 now incurred its proscription. The two classes 
 were nearly as mutually hostile abroad as they had 
 been at home ; and in England, especially, their 
 respective circles were rigorously exclusive of each 
 other, and rife with reciprocal accusations and 
 slanders.
 
 IX. 
 
 Fa7tny Buriiey. 147 
 
 Madame de Stael was too conspicuous a cha- 
 racter to escape disparagement from the aristo- 
 crats who had opposed her father as the principal 
 instigator of the Eevolution. She did not court 
 their society, but gathered around her some con- 
 genial friends in an elegant home called Juniper 
 Hall, at Mickleham, Surrey. Norbury Park, the 
 seat of Mr. Phillips, son-in-law of Dr. Burney, 
 the well-known historian of music, was not far 
 from Juniper Hall ; and the two households 
 maintained cordial terms of good neighbourhood 
 and hospitality. We may well thank God that, 
 from the confusion of society, the delirium of the 
 human world, we can find refuge in the sohtudes 
 of nature, in her quiet beauty and her tranquil 
 stabihty, and in literature and the social amenities. 
 These refugees from the most frightful scenes the 
 nations have ever witnessed enjoyed among the 
 natural beauties of Surrey an interval of serene, 
 of even joyous hfe. Kindly nature gave them 
 at least a temporary relief from the tumults and 
 atrocities which had appalled them in their Conti- 
 nental homes. 
 
 Miss Fanny Burney, the sister of Mrs. Philhps, 
 and the ' dear httle Burney ' of Dr. Johnson — now 
 one of the waiting women of Queen Charlotte, 
 and still better known as the author of ' Eve- 
 Hna,' ' Cecilia,' ' Cornelia,' &c. — was rusticating at 
 Norbury Park, and has left us, in her pubhshed 
 ' Diary and Letters,' some entertaining ghmpses of 
 
 L 2
 
 148 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 her French neighbours.^ They formed a consider- 
 able colony. Among them was, occasionally at 
 least, Talleyrand, the ex-ecclesiastic, the statesman, 
 and the wit ; Giiibert, whose eulogistic rhapsody 
 on Madame de Stael has been previously cited, and 
 whose memory she generously commemorated, as 
 we have seen, in an eloquent ' Eloge ; ' Narbonne, 
 who had been a famihar guest in the salon of her 
 mother, whose appointment as Minister of War 
 had been procured by her influence, whose hfe she 
 had lately saved in Paris, and who, perhaps, was 
 too dear to her ; General d'Arblay, who gave 
 lessons in French to Fanny Burney, won her affec- 
 tions, and married her, ' though she was more than 
 forty years old ; ' a daughter of Montmorin, the 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs, whose wife had fore- 
 warned Madame de Stael, in sight of the procession 
 of the States-General at Versailles, that ' out of this 
 day will spring frightful disasters to France and to 
 us ' — the father, mother, and one of their sons had 
 already perished by violent deaths ; Lally-Tollen- 
 dal, whose pleading for one of his proscribed friends 
 saved his own life, and who lived to vindicate the 
 memory of Necker ; Montmorency, the faithful 
 counsellor of Madame de Stael ; Jaucourt, whom 
 she had saved from death ; Girardin, late member 
 of the Legislative Assembly, son of the Marquis 
 Girardin of Ermenonville, and pupil of Eousseau, 
 
 ^ Diary of Madame d'Arblay &c., vol. v. part viii. (5 vols. 8vo.). 
 London, 1842.
 
 IX. The Mickleham Colony. 149 
 
 who died on his estate there ; Sicard, one of La- 
 fayette's officers ; the Duke de Giiignes, who had 
 been the French Minister at London ; the Princesse 
 d'Henin, the Princesse de Poix, and others. They 
 formed a circle distinguished by culture as well 
 as by social rank, and contrived to alleviate their 
 exile by dramatic readings and other literary en- 
 tertainments, by their brilliant conversations, by 
 rides among the scenery of the vicinity, and visits 
 to and from the neighbouring gentry. 
 
 Fanny Burney was fascinated by this novel 
 and elegant little society. ' She was forced,' says 
 Macaulay, ' to own that she had never heard con- 
 versation before. The most animated eloquence, 
 the keenest observation, the most sparkling wit, 
 the most courtly grace, were united to charm her. 
 She listened with rapture to Talleyrand and Ma- 
 dame de Stael ; joined with D'Arblay in execrating 
 the Jacobins and in weeping for the unhappy 
 Bourbons ; took French lessons from him, fell in 
 love with him, and married him with no better 
 provision than a precarious annuity of one hundred 
 pounds.'^ 
 
 Talleyrand is the wit of the circle. Madame 
 de Chatre is described as ' about thirty-two years 
 old, of an elegant figure ; well read, full of e.'^prit^ 
 very charming ; ' Narbonne as ' about forty, rather 
 fat, but he would be handsome were it not for a 
 squint in one eye.' M. de Jaucourt ' is far from 
 
 "^ Macaulay's Esmys, v. 1 .
 
 150 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 handsome, but lias a very intelligent countenance, 
 fine teeth, and is very expressive.' He tells the 
 English guests the story of Madame de Stael's 
 heroism in rescuing him and others from the guil- 
 lotine in Paris. 'This lady,' he says, 'who was 
 seven months gone with child, was indefatigable 
 in her efforts to save everyone she knew from 
 the dreadful massacres. She walked daily (for car- 
 riages were not then allowed in the streets) to the 
 Hotel de Ville, and was frequently shut up for five 
 hours with the horrible wretches who composed the 
 committee of surveillaiice by whom these murders 
 were directed ; and, by her eloquence and the 
 consideration demanded by her rank and talents, 
 she obtained the dehverance of above twenty un- 
 fortunate prisoners, some of whom she knew but 
 slightly.' ^ 
 
 Madame de Stael is the cynosure of these con- 
 versazioni. If Talleyrand excels all in ho7i8 mots 
 and epigrams, she dazzles all by the splendid 
 variety and happy pertinence of her ideas, the rich- 
 ness of her style, and the generous enthusiasm 
 of her sentiments. At one time she thrills the 
 company by her passionate recitation of a tragedy ; 
 at another she entertains them, and particularly 
 commands the applause of Talleyrand, by reading 
 the first chapter of her work on the ' Influence of 
 the Passions on the Happiness of Individuals and 
 of Nations,' one of her most elaborate productions, 
 
 » The D'Arblay Diary &c.
 
 IX, 
 
 Entertainments. i s i 
 
 to which she now devoted occasional hours, but 
 • which was not pubhshed till 1796. 'She read,' 
 writes Mrs. Phillips, ' the noble tragedy of " Tan- 
 crede," till she blinded us all around. She is the 
 most charming person, to use her own phrase, that 
 never I saw.' Though usually a very effective reader, 
 she could not escape occasional criticism from 
 Talleyrand. ' Madame de Stael was very gay and 
 Talleyrand very comic this evening ; he criticised, 
 ^mong other things, her reading of prose, with great 
 sang f raid. " You read prose very badly," he said ; 
 " you have a sing-song tone in reading — a cadence, 
 and also a monotony which is not good at all ; one 
 always beheves that you are reading verse, and 
 that has a very bad effect." They talked over a 
 number of their friends and acquaintances with the 
 utmost unreserve, and sometimes with the most 
 comic humour imaginable — Lally, Lafayette, the 
 Princesse d'Henin, the Princesse de Poix, and 
 Ouibert, who was, Madame de Stael told me, 
 passionately in love with her before she married — 
 and innumerable others.' D'Arblay employs his 
 leisure in copying, for her, her essay on the Passions. 
 Lally reads to them his own tragedy on the 'Death 
 of Strafford ; ' but the company, though they liave 
 come from actual scenes the most tragic in the 
 history of the world, are not predisposed to melan- 
 choly sentimentahty ; they amuse themselves at the 
 contrast between the lachrymose style of the drama 
 and the violent gesticulation and Falstaffian cor-
 
 152 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 pulence of its author. French gaiety predominates 
 in their circle. Poverty itself cannot damp their 
 national vivacity. 
 
 They are compelled to economise ; most of them 
 have lost their all in tlie wreck of their country ; 
 and those who, like Narbonne and Madame de 
 Stael, retain ample resources, are embarrassed by 
 the difficulties which attend the remittance of their 
 funds. The few that have any means share them 
 with the many who have none. They are content 
 mth one small carriage, which they have bought 
 for their drives in tlie beautiful scenery of Surrey. 
 It can hold but two persons. Talleyrand and 
 Narbonne gaily take their turns to ride behind as 
 footmen ; and, breaking the glass from the back 
 of the vehicle, keep up the liveliest conversation 
 with its inmates. Madame de Stael assures us that 
 she never heard more brilliant talk than in these 
 gay excursions. Penury had become honourable 
 among the emigres^ not only at Mickleham, but in 
 all their English resorts ; for many of them who 
 had been in the highest social positions of France 
 were its victims abroad. Dutens, who, by his long 
 connection with the diplomatic service of England,, 
 was more an Englisliman than a Frenchman,, 
 witnessed their exemplary sufferings with admi- 
 ration. ' They were not ashamed,' he says, ' to 
 be poor, though they had to do their utmost to 
 save themselves from want. I saw women of the 
 highest condition and greatest name submit to
 
 IX. Madame d'Arblays Letters. 153 
 
 their necessary work, and gentlemen devote them- 
 selves to various labours, and never thereby lose the 
 elevation of their sentiments.'* 
 
 Madame d'Arblay's Diary and Letters, describ- 
 ing the hfe of the little colony at Mickleham, allude 
 to the slanders which the aristocratic emigres in 
 London were jealously circulating against its chief 
 members. 
 
 On the 4th of February 1793, she writes to 
 her father : ' Madame de Stael is now at the head 
 of the little French colony in this neighbourhood. 
 Monsieur de Stael is at present suspended in his 
 embassy, but not recalled ; it is uncertain yet 
 whether tlie regent, Duke of Sudermania, will send 
 him to Paris during the present horrible Conven- 
 tion, or order him home. He is now in Holland, 
 waiting for commands. Madame de Stael was un- 
 safe in Paris, though an ambassadress, from the 
 resentment owed her by the Commune. She is a 
 woman of the first abilities, I think, I have ever 
 seen. Slie is more in the style of Mrs. Thrale than 
 of any other celebrated character ; but she has 
 infinitely more depth, and seems even a profounder 
 politician and metaphysician. She has suffered us 
 to hear some of her works in manuscript, which 
 are truly wonderful, for powers both of thinldng 
 and of expression. She adores her father, but is 
 alarmed at having liad no news of him since he has 
 heard of the death of the martyred Louis. Ever 
 
 ■• Memoir es d'un Voyageur qui se repose, ii. 24. Paris, 1806.
 
 154 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 since her arrival she has been pressing me to spend 
 some time with her before I return to town. She 
 exactly resembles Mrs. Thrale in the ardour and 
 warmth of her partialities. I find her impossible 
 to resist. She is o;ily a short walk from here, at 
 Juniper Hall. There can be nothing imagined 
 more charming, more fascinating, than this little 
 colony ; between their sufferings and their agre- 
 mens^ they occupy us almost wliolly. Monsieur 
 Narbonne bears the highest character for goodness, 
 parts, sweetness of temper, and ready wit. He has 
 been affected by the King's death ; but relieved by 
 hearing, through Monsieur de Malesherbes, that 
 his master retained a regard for him to the last. 
 Monsieur de Talleyrand insists on conveying this 
 letter to you. He has been on a visit here, and 
 returns again on Wednesday.' 
 
 On tlie 19tli of February her father writes to 
 her : ' I am not at all surprised at your account of 
 the captivating powers of Madame de Stael. It 
 corresponds with all I have heard about her, and 
 with the opinion I formed of her intellectual and 
 Hterary powers, in reading her cliarming little 
 " Apologie de Eousseau." But, as nothing human is 
 allowed to be perfect, she has not escaped censure. 
 Her house was tlie centre of the Eevolutionists, 
 previous to the 10th of August ; and she has been 
 accused of partiahty to Monsieur de Narbonne. 
 But perhaj^s all may be Jacobinical malignity. 
 However, unfavourable stories have been brouijht
 
 IX. The Revolutionists. 155 
 
 hither, and the Burks and Mrs. Ord have repeated 
 them to me. But you know that Monsieur JSTecker's 
 administration, and the conduct of the nobles who 
 first joined in the violent measures that subverted 
 the ancient estabhshments, by the abohtion of 
 nobihty and the ruin of the Church, during the 
 first National Assembly, are held in greater horror 
 by the aristocrats than even the members of the 
 present Convention. If you are not absolutely in 
 the house of Madame de Stael, perhaps it may be 
 possible for you to waive the visit to her.' 
 
 In answer to her father she says : ' I am both 
 hurt and astonished at the acrimony of mahce ; 
 indeed, I beheve all this party to merit nothing but 
 honour, compassion, and praise. Madame de Stael, 
 the daugliter of Xecker — the idolising daughter, of 
 course, and from the best motives, those of filial 
 reverence — entered into the opening of the Eevolu- 
 tion just as her father entered into it ; but as to 
 her house having become the centre of the Eevolu- 
 tionists before the 10th of August, it was only so 
 for the Constitutionahsts who were at that time 
 not only members of the then estabhshed Go- 
 vernment, but friends of the King. The aristo- 
 crats were then already banished, or wanderers 
 from fear, or silent from cowardice ; as to the 
 Jacobins, I need not, after what I have already 
 related, tell you how utterly abhorrent to her must 
 be that fiend-hke set. The aristocrats, however, 
 as you well observe, and as she has herself told me,
 
 156 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 hold the CoDstitutionahsts in greater horror than 
 the Convention itself. The mahgnant assertions 
 which persecute her, all of which she has lamented 
 to lis, she imputes equally to tlie bad and viru- 
 lent of both parties. The intimation concerning 
 Monsieur de N. was, however, wholly new to us, 
 and I do firmly beheve it to be a gross calumny. 
 Monsieur de N. was of her society, which con- 
 tained ten or twelve of the first people, and oc- 
 casionally all Paris ; she loves him even tenderly, 
 but so openly, so unaffectedly, so simply, and with 
 such utter freedom from coquetry, that, were they 
 two men or two women, the affection could not, I 
 think, be more obviously undesigning. She is very 
 plain, he is very handsome ; her intellectual endow- 
 ments must be, with him, her chief attractions. 
 Monsieur de Talleyrand was another of her society, 
 and she seems equally attached to him. In short, 
 her whole coterie live together as brothers. Ma- 
 dame la Marquise de la Chatre, and a daughter 
 of the unhappy Montmorin, are also with Madame 
 de Stael. Indeed, I think you could not pass a 
 day with them, and not see that their commerce is 
 that of pure, exalted, and most elegant friendship. 
 Nevertheless, I would give the world to avoid being 
 even a guest under their roof, now I liave heard the 
 shadow of such a rumour.' 
 
 Madame de Stael attempted to correspond with 
 Miss Burney in English. In one of her letters she 
 tells how she studied tlie language, but in a style
 
 IX. Madame d'Arblay. 157 
 
 which shows tliat lier nietliocl was not remarkably 
 successful. ' When I learned to read English,' she 
 says, ' I began by Milton to know all, or renounce 
 at all in once.' She alludes with indignant emotion 
 to the charges of the aristocratic emigres who ac- 
 cused her of being in democratic sympathy with the 
 Jacobins, and 'sought to embitter the security of 
 friendship ' by their reports respecting Narbonne. 
 
 Notwithstanding Miss Burney's opinion of the 
 malicious character of the reports against the 
 little colony, her own shallow character was 
 revealed in her later treatment of Madame de Stael. 
 She had occasion deeply to regret it, as we shall 
 see. Her soul was essentially narrow and super- 
 ficial. Some years afterwards, when she accom- 
 panied D'Arblay to Paris, as his wife, she evaded 
 the proffered courtesies of Madame de Stael, who 
 was then the object of Napoleon's paltry jea- 
 lousy. The authoress of ' Corinne ' and ' L'Alle- 
 magne' could not, however, be disparaged in 
 being ignored by t]ie authoress of ' Evehna ' and 
 ' Corneha.' ^ Madame de Stael never knew envy 
 or maUce from her own heart — no human be- 
 ing was ever more sympathetic, more confidino- ; 
 and it is affecting to observe with what sisterly 
 tenderness she clings to the Enghsh authoress, not- 
 withstanding the evident increasing coolness of the 
 
 * ' Miss Burney was a vulgar woman, and, if anyone doubts it, let 
 bim read her Diary aud Letters.* — A\'liarton's Queens of Society, p 
 367. London, 1867.
 
 158 Madame dc Stael. ch. 
 
 latter. When Fanny marries M. d'Arblay, slie 
 writes to her from Coppet : ' They tell me news 
 which makes me extremely happy. Your heart is 
 capable of appreciating the heroic conduct of our 
 friend, and of justifying fate in giving you to him, 
 as God's recompense of his virtues on this earth. 
 As you are now, in a sense, of my family, I liope 
 that if I return to England I shall see you as much 
 as I wish — that is to say, without ceasing. All my 
 regrets, as all my hopes, recall me to Surrey. It 
 is the earthly paradise for me ; I hope it will be 
 for you. I do not know a better character than 
 M. d'Arblay ; and I have known for a long time 
 how much he loves you. . You ought to write to 
 us very often at present. Please inform me of 
 your projects ; confide to me your happiness ; and 
 if T can ever serve you, in any manner, dispose of 
 me as your own property. Adieu, adieu ! ' 
 
 The colony at Mickleham made the most 
 of their resources of enjoyment, amidst scenery 
 celebrated for its picturesque beauty, with occupa- 
 tions tending to their culture, and with tlie charac- 
 teristic gaiety of their French temperament. Their 
 want of means compelled them to sacrifice their 
 jewels and laces. Dumont says of Talleyrand that 
 ' he knew how to accustom liimself in his exile to a 
 simple hfe, to endure privations, and to share with 
 his friends the single resource he had saved from 
 France — the remnants of a superb hbrary, sold at 
 great loss ; for the spirit of party even in London
 
 IX, Departure from Micklcham. 159 
 
 was unfavourable to competition of purchasers.'^ 
 Some of them had to give French lessons ; others 
 to undertake ' menial offices,' but they never failed 
 to amuse themselves. Talleyrand was at last or- 
 dered out of the country by the Government, and 
 sailed for America ; Narbonne left ; and Madame 
 de Stael returned in the summer of 1793 to Coppet, 
 and thence to Paris. Miss Burney was not with 
 her at the time of her departure from Junij)er Hall, 
 .but her sister, Mrs. Philhps, was there, and wrote 
 soon after, that ' she could not rally her spirits at 
 all ; and seemed hke one torn from all that is dear 
 to her. I was truly concerned. After giving me 
 a variety of charges, or rather entreaties, to watch 
 and attend to the health, spirits and affairs of the 
 friends she was leaving, she said to me, " And say to 
 Miss Burney that I feel nothing against her — that 
 I quit the countrj^ loving her very sincerely and 
 without resentment." I assured her of your admira- 
 tion, and chagrin at seeing no more of her. She 
 seemed pleased, and said, " You are very good to 
 say this to me," but in a low and faint voice, and 
 dropped the subject. She actually sobbed on 
 saying farewell to Mi\s. Lock ; and, halfway down 
 the hill, her parting with me was likewise very 
 tender. I determined to see her again, and met 
 her near the school, on Wednesday. She could 
 not speak to me ; but kissed her hand, with a very 
 speaking and touching expression of countenance.' 
 
 ^ Dumont's Souvenirs sw Mirabeau &c. chap. xvii.
 
 i6o Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 Early in this year Louis XVI. was condemned 
 to death. Necker had asked permission to return 
 to Paris and defend his unfortunate King before 
 the Convention. His prayer was refused ; but he 
 pubhshed a pamphlet in behalf of the royal pri- 
 soner, the only effect of which was the confiscation 
 of all his own property in France. On January 21, 
 the King, accompanied by a confessor, the Abbe 
 Edgeworth, was conducted, in a close carriage, 
 to the guillotine. The way was guarded by eighty 
 thousand troops ; all business was suspended, all 
 shops were shut. Cannons bristled at points on 
 the route, and the artillerymen stood ready Avith 
 burning matches. The scaiTold was surrounded 
 l3y an immense crowd, impatient to witness the 
 great crime. The drums were beating furiously. 
 Louis, with a loud and indignant voice, bade the 
 drummers be silent. They instinctively obeyed the 
 last order of their King ; but when he attempted to 
 address the multitude, an officer (probably Santerre) 
 commanded them to recommence their music, and 
 they drowned the monarcli's voice. Six execu- 
 tioners seized him, but he resisted them, and de- 
 manded the privilege of divesting his neck of its 
 clothing. They bound lum to the plank. ' Son of 
 St. Louis, ascend to heaven ! ' cried his confessor, 
 bending over liim. The axe descended, and his 
 severed head was lield up to the view of the people, 
 amidst resounding shouts and tlie waving of hats, and 
 of tlie caps of the military lifted on their bayonets.
 
 IX. Pleads for the Queen. i6i 
 
 On the return of Madame de Stael to Coppet, it 
 was manifest tliat the Queen was also doomed. The 
 daughter of Necker had never been treated with 
 much partiaHty by Marie Antoinette ; on the con- 
 trary, both her father and herself had suffered 
 deeply from her prejudices. But resentment was 
 impossible to the generous and elevated nature of 
 the young authoress. She hastened to appeal to 
 her country in behalf of the menaced, the im- 
 prisoned Queen — now, perhaps, the most desolate 
 woman on the earth. Her ' Eeflections on the Trial 
 of the Queen ' is one of the best exponents of her 
 own womanly heart.*^ It is passionate in its pathos, 
 its entreaties, its arguments. She knew the atro- 
 cious judges to whom she appealed. ' She tries 
 every tone,' says one of her critics ; ' she uses every 
 means to discover a tender place in the skin of the 
 tiger, and to reach the heart of the man.'^ She 
 loses sight of the Queen and pleads for the woman, 
 the beautiful, the tender mother, the devoted and 
 courageous wife, the most wretched of her sex. 
 But what could the plea of a woman, of even such 
 a woman, avail in the sanguinary infatuation of 
 these times ? On September 16, 1 7 9 3 , the daughter 
 
 ^ Reflexions sur le Frocks de la Heine, par tine Femme, issued in 
 August 1793, the same month in which the Queen was tried. ' Cer- 
 tainly the plea, at once ingenious and energetic, that she composed for 
 the Queen's defence, would have had the honours of a triumph, if the 
 latter had not been condemned in advance.' — Eneyc. des Gens du Monde, 
 xxi. 
 
 ^ Madame Necker de Saiissure, Notice &c. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1 62 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 of Maria Theresa, the fairest Queen of Europe, 
 for whom Burke's eloquence has commanded 
 the tears of the world, was condemned to death, 
 at four o'clock in the morning, after two days and 
 two nights of horrors called a judicial trial. She cut 
 off her own hair, prematurely grey from grief, to 
 save it from the profanation of the executioner, and, ' 
 dressing herself in white, courageously mounted 
 the open cart, in which she was then bound and 
 dragged through the streets to the place of execu- 
 tion, guarded by 30,000 troops, and an innumerable 
 hooting rabble, who filled the air with clamours. 
 She ascended the scaffold Avith perfect self-posses- 
 sion, and maintained the dignity of the Queen, and 
 the fortitude of her race, to the bitter end. Her 
 bleeding head was held up, by the executioner, to 
 the gaze of the throng, and the j^oUtest capital of 
 the world uttered a tempest of hilarious outcries at 
 the pallid visage — still beautiful, though agonised 
 by uttermost sorrow. 
 
 Not long after the publication of her brochure 
 in behalf of the Queen, Madame de Stael again gave 
 utterance to her profound anguish in her poetic 
 ' Epitre au Malheur ' — a production which is remark- 
 able for its power and truthfulness of expression. 
 The horrors of the Eevolution and the interests of 
 her country wholly absorbed her attention at this 
 period. They had led her to commence, months 
 before, her work on the ' Influence of the Passions,' 
 but she dropped that more pretentious task for
 
 IX. She pleads for Peace. 163 
 
 these briefer and more direct appeals to her coiiii- 
 .trymen. Soon after the fall of Eobespierre she 
 wrote her ' Eeflexions siir la Paix, adressees a M. 
 Pitt et aux Fran9ais,' and after a brief interval her 
 ' Reflexions sur la Paix Interieiire.' The first was 
 commended by Mr. Fox in the British Parhament ; 
 and both expressed all that she could then dare to 
 say on the external and internal condition of France. 
 They are important documents for the history of 
 the period, and generous protests against the war- 
 spirit which inflamed France against the rest of 
 Europe, and the rest of Europe against France. 
 Both these pamphlets show the masculine vigour, 
 the strong common sense, of her intellect. Though 
 she had never been averse to constitutional mon- 
 archy, such especially as is exemphfied in the 
 British constitution, she was not now favourable to 
 the restoration of monarchy in France. She knew 
 that the former political order could not be imme- 
 diately re-established without a terrible reaction 
 and probably a sanguinary revenge of the crimes 
 of the Eevolution ; and any other monarchical 
 order could only come through struggles and wars 
 which must involve all Europe. One of her re- 
 marks has been cited as a striking example of her 
 prescience. ' France,' she says, ' can never become 
 a mixed monarchy without passing through a 
 military despotism.' The young military despot 
 who was to verify her prediction was already 
 extant, but his character was not yet sufficiently 
 
 H 2
 
 1 64 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 knuwu to foreshadow his career. JShe judged the 
 future only by the instinct of her genius. 
 
 Meanwhile a dark shadow fell upon the home 
 at Coppet, and Necker bowed his head under what 
 he considered the greatest affliction of his life.
 
 Death of her Mother. 165 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 DEATH OF HER MOTHER. 
 
 Madame Necker's Sufferinga — Last Interview with Gibbon — Letter to 
 Mm — Her Character — Posthumous Letters to her Husband — His 
 Devotion to her — Moral Beauty of the Last Scene. 
 
 In 1794 Madame Necker died, almost in view of 
 the picturesque scenes of her youth. What a 
 career had she passed through since she went forth 
 into the world from her mountain home of Grassier ! 
 She early saw the vanity of the ambition which 
 had led her husband to so much distinction and 
 so much suffering ; and the hopelessness, at such a 
 crisis, of the plans of reform and beneficence which 
 had seemed to justify their joint aspirations. She 
 prompted his resignation, in 1781, because she 
 could not endure the distress which the pubhc 
 calumnies against him occasioned her. They shat- 
 tered her health for hfe. When, in his second 
 administration, he was exiled for a few days, she 
 tried to deter him from accepting his recall. She 
 instinctively apprehended the coming earthquake ; 
 and, in the magnificent ovation of his return, and 
 throughout his ensuing administration, down to
 
 1 66 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 the hour of his final retirement, ' she had but a 
 single thought — the fear of the dangers which 
 menaced him.' In matters of duty she could brave 
 any peril to herself, or even to him whom she so 
 passionately loved ; but for any other consider- 
 ation, she could not consent that a life so inex- 
 pressibly dear to her should be hazarded. Her 
 anxiety for him deepened into a species of terror, 
 and it was an infinite relief for her to return to 
 the quiet of her native country, to enjoy there 
 the afiections of her home, through a few years 
 of dechning health, and sleep at last in the per- 
 petual rest of the family cemetery. 
 
 Notwithstanding her physical sufferings, during 
 these few years of retirement, they were years of 
 peace, of moral growth, and of serene and poetic 
 reminiscences. Mementoes of her happy childhood 
 were all around her, and she delighted to review 
 them. The romance of her girlhood did not fail 
 to recur in the retrospect, amidst the transcendant 
 scenery which had charmed her early fife, and was 
 now, with its unchanging loveliness, beautifying her 
 life's sunset. It was here that her young heart 
 first awoke to the consciousness of love ; and now 
 that her Hfe had grown weary and was closing, 
 Gibbon the historian, the object of her first 
 affection, reappeared by her side. They met for 
 the last time in Geneva, and talked over the 
 memories of their youtli. Necker, the friend of 
 Gibbon, respected and shared their sentiments, and
 
 X. Gibbon. 167 
 
 soon after her death gave to the world her last 
 letter to the historian. It was written on the 15tli 
 of June 1792, and says: 'We think frequently of 
 tlie charming days which we have spent with you 
 in Geneva. I experienced in those days a senti- 
 ment new to me, and perhaps to most people. By 
 a rare favour of Providence, I combined in one 
 place one of the sweetest and purest affections of 
 my youth, with that which makes my lot in hfe 
 and which renders it so enviable. This coincidence, 
 joined to the charms of your unrivalled conversa- 
 tional power, formed a sort of enchantment ; and 
 the connection of the past and the present rendered 
 the time similar to a dream coming forth from the 
 Ivory Gate for the consolation of mortals. Do you 
 not wish to prolong it ? Coppet is in all its beauty ; 
 but I know that I ought not to insist, for we are 
 now leading here a very sohtary hfe ; circumstances 
 keep the Genevese in their homes, and these rural 
 resorts are deserted.' She proceeds to advise him 
 not to marry, now in his mature hfe — he was fifty- 
 five years old — but, 'you are married to fame,' 
 she adds, ' and ^^our friends, who cherish you, are 
 not jealous of this tie, the lustre of which is re- 
 flected upon them. I have thought a hundred 
 times of the confidence you made me ; I expect the 
 execution of it with inexpressible interest. Your 
 genius will make a new school of writei's — you 
 gather all the intellectual riches of your age. ISTo 
 one in the world has felt better than we, your
 
 1 68 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 unique association of the most brilliant and varied 
 intellect with the sweetest and most equable cha- 
 racter, and we can well say of you, what Cicero 
 says of literature, " equally delightful in retirement 
 and in the world," — at- Paris and at Coppet.' ^ 
 
 She died in May, a time of exceeding beauty in 
 the scenery of Lake Leman. Her husband miti- 
 gated the sorrows of his bereavement by editing 
 the five volumes of ' Melanges ' — fragments from 
 her manuscripts. In his preface to the first 
 volume, he says that ' lier faculties ranged over 
 an indefinite space, but her principles were im- 
 movable. With daily progress in knowledge, she 
 preserved an innocence of heart which prolonged 
 her moral youth, and shed an extreme grace over 
 her person.' ' Singular contrast I ' he exclaims, 
 ' she witnessed all the developments of selfishness, 
 the displays of vanity, the collisions of the passions, 
 but never would believe in perfidious designs or 
 in malicious ruses. This mixture of intellectual 
 penetration and generous confidence formed a 
 combination which was unique and full of charm. 
 After passing much of her life among men of 
 letters, at a time when " philosophy " was most 
 reckless, it is remarkable that her religious opinions 
 never underwent the slightest change. She had 
 no bigotry in this respect ; her reverence for God 
 was great, noble, elevated, always worthy, if any- 
 thing can be, of the worship of the Sovereign 
 
 ^ Melanges Sec. tome i. 3G0.
 
 X. Madame Neckei's C/mracter. 169 
 
 Master of the world. This reverence, mingled with 
 a holy charity, had a character which I believe to 
 be infinitely rare. In the extreme anguish of her 
 last sufferings, she always turned her thoughts 
 gratefully back to the blessings she had received, 
 and lifted her hands in thanksgiving to God. I 
 never witnessed a piety more simple, or more 
 suitable to give a just idea of the relations of a 
 virtuous and sensible heart to its Creator.' 
 
 ' You see me,' she had said to her daughter, ' on 
 the boundary which separates time from eternity ; 
 I place my hand on the one and on the other, and 
 attest, by both, the existence of God and the 
 blessedness of virtue.' 
 
 Her charities had been superabundant, both 
 in Paris and in her rural retirement. ' If she 
 is not in Paradise,' said a poor peasant woman 
 to her mourning husband, ' then we are all lost.' 
 
 Thomas, almost the only litterateur of her salon 
 who shared her moral sentiments, said, ' Her soul 
 was a religious sanctuary to which few could have 
 access without being moved to tenderness and 
 reverence.' 
 
 All contemporary accounts of the family agree 
 in representing its domestic concord as perfect. 
 To the end, the relations of tlie husband and wife 
 were regulated by a perfect love. Necker's allu- 
 sions to her are passionately affectionate. She 
 wrote a literary ' portrait ' of him, Avhich fills more 
 than thirty pages in her pubhshed writings, and
 
 1 70 Madame de Sta'el. ch, 
 
 every page glows mtli the ardour of her daughter's 
 ' Corinne.' He was more than a human being to 
 her fond admiration ; she imagined in him some- 
 thing ahiiost divine. 
 
 When Madame Necker perceived that her sick- 
 ness was fatal, she wrote letters to her husband, 
 to be read after her death. They are full of 
 pathetic tenderness and rehgious trust. ' You 
 weep, dear one of my heart,' she says, ' you 
 fear that she whose existence was united at all 
 points to your own, lives no more for you. You 
 are wrong ; that God who joined our hearts, and 
 who has crowned us with blessings, has not anni- 
 hilated my being. While I write this letter, a 
 secret sentiment, or instinct which has never 
 deceived me, sheds an inexpressible calm through 
 my soul. I believe my spirit will still watch over 
 your fate, and that, in the bosom of God, I shall 
 still enjoy your tenderness for me.' She proceeds 
 to give him directions about his subsec[uent life — 
 not to give up his active pursuits, not to indulge 
 in enervating grief over his bereavement and 
 his official misfortunes. ' Employ still the talents 
 which God has given you, for His glory and the 
 good of humanity; seek, in sacred and subhme 
 occupations, relief to your sorrows. Address to me 
 your words : I will still be your judge, your tender 
 judge.' 
 
 Madame de Stael has recorded tlie devotion of 
 Necker to his dying wife. ' No language,' she says,
 
 X. 
 
 Last Scenes. 171 
 
 ' can give any adequate idea of it. Exhausted by 
 wakefulness at night, she slept often in the day- 
 time, resting her head on his arm. I have seen 
 him remain, immovable, for hours together, standing 
 in the same position for fear of awakening her by 
 the least movement. The cares that he lavished 
 upon her were full of tenderness and emotion, 
 animated by the love that pure hearts preserve 
 through sufferings and years. Absent from her, 
 during a few hours of sleep, he inquired, on his 
 return, of her attendant, if she had asked for him ? 
 She could no longer speak, but made an effort 
 to say " Yes, yes." She whispered to him " We 
 shall see each other in Heaven." ' 
 
 ' She looked heavenward,' says Necker, ' in a 
 most affecting manner, hstening while I prayed ; 
 then, in dying, raised the finger of her left hand, 
 which wore the ring I had given her, to remind 
 me of the pledge engraved upon it, to love her for 
 ever.' 
 
 ' What calm,' he continues, ' what beauty at 
 this death-bed ! what resignation to the will of 
 God! During her sufferings she opposed, to all 
 expressions of pity for her, the thirty years of 
 happiness she had received from God.' 
 
 These mournful pages of Necker fairly sob with 
 emotion. ' Alas ! ' he exclaims, ' I have no longer 
 this companion, who attended me in the pilgrimage 
 of life. my God, let her virtues serve to protect 
 me near Thee. My beloved, if thou canst, help me,
 
 1 72 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 that, being purified, I may be judged worthy of a 
 second companionship with thee.' 
 
 His daughter entered the death-chamber soon 
 after her decease. The open window showed some 
 of the most magnificent views of the Alps, iUumi- 
 nated by the brightness of the morning. ' Her soul 
 perhaps is soaring yonder,' said Necker, pointing to 
 a light cloud which was passing over their heads ; 
 ' and he was silent.' 
 
 Alluding to his reflections on her death, written 
 immediately after the event, Madame de Stael says : 
 ' I have not seen, in any history, any romance, a 
 perfection of tenderness that can be compared to 
 this. These pages reveal a love that is divine, 
 agitated like that which is human ; full of delicacy 
 and passion, full of remorse without having com- 
 mitted a fault.' 
 
 Though it has sometimes been said that the 
 daughter was too much absorbed by her affection 
 for her father, to do full justice to her mother, — 
 and she did, undoubtedly, entertain a less intense 
 sympathy toward the latter than toward the former 
 — yet she always venerated her character and deeply 
 mourned her death. It was now that she declared 
 to Madame Necker de Saussure, ' The more I see 
 of life tlie better do I understand my mother, and 
 the more does my heart feel the need of her.'
 
 XI. 
 
 Conditio7t of France. 173 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 IN PARIS AGAIN. 
 
 Political Condition of France — M. de Stael — Social Reaction in Paris 
 — Madame Tallieu — The Salon again— Madame de Stael and 
 Talleyrand — She rescues Dupont de Nemonrs and Narvins de Mont- 
 breton — Her Efforts for Lafayette — Her Womanly Sensibility — 
 Education and Career of her Sou, Auguste — Her Treatise on the 
 Passions. 
 
 Madame de Stael again returned to Paris. In 
 spite of the agitations which still continued to be 
 rife there, after the fall of Eobespierre, the metro- 
 polis had irresistible attractions for her ; and her 
 husband had been reinstated in his official position, 
 and could guarantee her safety. 
 
 Within six years tliree Constitutions had been 
 provided by the revolutionary politicians. The one 
 now about to be adopted by the reactionary party 
 maintained the Eepublic and instituted a new Exe- 
 cutive of five members. The epoch of the Directory 
 was at- hand. France began to breathe with some 
 hope of personal safety. England and Austria were 
 still in the field against her, and the French mili- 
 tary spirit was still dominant, and rising daily ; but 
 Sweden recognised the new government as a pledge
 
 1 74 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 of better times, and the Baron de Stael had been 
 sent back for the negotiation of a new treaty of 
 alliance. 
 
 Madame de Stael, in reviewing this period,^ 
 regrets that Anstria and En£]i;land did not follow 
 the example of Sweden. She believed that Europe 
 might have thus been pacified, and the mihtary 
 career of Napoleon and the devastation of the Con- 
 tinent prevented. She deemed the Eepubhc, as 
 we have seen, the only practicable government for 
 France at present, and dreaded the intermediate , 
 stage necessary for the restoration of royalty — the 
 mihtary despotism which she had predicted, and 
 which was about to be developed by Napoleon, 
 under the auspices of the Directory, and the bel- 
 hgerent provocations of England and Austria. 
 Her good sense was displayed in her judgment of 
 the situation. ' In the period from 1793 to 1795,' 
 she says, ' England and her allies would have dis- 
 honoured themselves by treating with France — 
 with Kobespierre and Marat. But, when once the 
 intention of inaugurating a regular government 
 became manifest, nothing should have been neg- 
 lected which could interrupt the military education 
 of France. Eighteen months after the estabhsh- 
 ment of the Directory, England sent envoys to 
 Lille for peace ; but the success of the army of 
 Italy had inspired with arrogance the chiefs of the 
 Kepublic, and the Directory was already experi- 
 
 ' Considei'ations, iii. 21.
 
 XI. 
 
 Baron de Sta'el. 175 
 
 enced in power, and believed itself secure. New 
 governments naturally desire peace ; hostile powers 
 should wisely avail themselves of this fact : in 
 pohtics, as in war, there are critical hours which 
 should be hastily seized.' Pitt had eulogised the 
 Constitution of 1795, but Burke's 'Thoughts on a 
 Eegicide Peace ' renewed the popular indignation 
 of England against France. 
 
 M. de Stael was still the only minister from 
 a Monarchy to the Repubhc. The Eepubhcan 
 leaders had received him with acclamations. They 
 devised a solemn ceremony for his reception in 
 the National Convention, where he was favoured 
 with an elevated seat in face of the President, and, 
 on April 22, 1795, delivered his address, sitting. 
 ' I come,' he said, ' on the part of the kingdom of 
 Sweden, to the bosom of the National Eepresenta- 
 tion of France, to render a demonstrative homage 
 to the natural, imprescriptible rights of nations.' 
 He had evidently learned the pohtical dialect of 
 the Eevolutionists. Amidst the shouts of the 
 
 Assembly, the President gave him the ' accolade,' 
 
 the fraternal kiss. He was assioiied a ' lose ' in 
 the Convention, where he daily witnessed its pro- 
 ceedings and was the object of general interest. 
 
 Manners are more powerful than laws ; the old 
 tendencies of French society began immediately to 
 struggle for the ascendency, now that the revolu- 
 tionary terrorism was giving way. Madame de 
 Stael is surprised, on her return to the capital, by
 
 1 76 Madame de Staei. ch. 
 
 the bizarre contrasts and confusion of tastes and 
 manners which characterise the reaction. The 
 staunch Eepubhcans change slowly, but their 
 ' Spartanism ' cannot withstand their innate French 
 passion for gaiety and dress. In 1793 men wore 
 ' red night-caps ; ' ' the municipahty themselves 
 went in ^aboU^ or wooden shoes, '^ but now these 
 are discarded as follies. The men propose, the 
 women actually adopt, the classic Greek costume. 
 The salon., once so powerful, afterwards so perilous 
 under democratic surveillance, revives, and Paris 
 throngs it, himgering and tliirsting for the amenities 
 of ' society,' the blandishments of elegant women, 
 the converse of intelligent men. One of those re- 
 markable characters which surprise us at almost 
 every stage of the Eevolution leads, partly by her 
 very follies, the social reaction. Tallien, accom- 
 panied by the guillotine dripping with the blood of 
 innumerable victims, was extirpating Girondism in 
 the region of Bordeaux during the Eeign of Terror, 
 when he became enamoured of a young Spanish 
 beauty, Madame de Fontenai {iiee Carabus), and 
 saved her from the general murder. He took her 
 to Paris, and his ferocious nature is reported to 
 have been not a little softened by her influence. 
 But she was again in peril of death, and, from her 
 prison, appealed to him for deliverance, warning 
 him that his own liead was in danger. For her 
 safety, as well as his own, this sanguinary Terrorist 
 2 Carlyle, iii. 7, 2.
 
 XI. Madame Tallien. 177 
 
 led the conspiracy against Eobespierre and de- 
 livered France from the Jacobins. The Senhorina 
 Cabarus, the Dame de Fontenai, or, as she is better 
 known, and will be always, in French history, 
 Madame Talhen, now opened a salon^ and reigned 
 supreme in the society of Paris, cautiously at first, 
 but efiectually, impelhng the social reaction. 
 'Whatever remnants of the old grace survived,' 
 says Carlyle, ' are rallied here. At her right hand, 
 in this cause, labours the fair Josephine, the widow 
 Beauharnais, though in straitened circumstances ; 
 both of them intent to blandish down the grimness 
 of republican austerity and recivilise mankind.' 
 
 The morals of Madame Tallien were those of 
 the time ; but she wielded the power of extra- 
 ordinary benevolence and of superb beauty ; and 
 many were her good and brave deeds amidst the 
 worst atrocities of the Eevolution. Madame Junot 
 (Duchesse d'Abrantes) knew her well, and always 
 alludes to her with the kindliest lan2fuag:e. The 
 hterary Duchesse pourtrays her, with feminine 
 particularity, as she appeared in the salons of this 
 period, costumed a la grecque^ a representative of 
 the epoch. She was above middle height ; with a 
 perfect harmony in all her person. ' She was the 
 Venus of the Capitol, but more beautiful than the 
 work of Phidias, with the same purity of hues, the 
 same perfection of the hands, the arms, the feet ; 
 and all this beauty animated by a benevolent ex- 
 pression, a reflection of the magic mirror of the 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 Madame de StaeL ch. 
 
 soul, which showed all the generosity of her nature.' 
 Her dress added not a little to her charms : she 
 wore a simple robe of Indian muslin, draped ac- 
 cording to the antique, attached on the shoulders 
 by two cameos ; a girdle of gold encircled her waist 
 and was clasped by a cameo ; large bracelets of 
 gold held her sleeves much above her elbows ; her 
 hair, of velvet black, was short and frise all around 
 her head a la Titus^ as this coiffure v/as then called. 
 On her white and beautiful shoulders was a superb 
 red cashmere shawl, which she draped around her 
 in a manner so graceful and picturesque, as to form 
 a charming tableau. All eyes concentrated upon 
 her, all the crowd gathered around her.^ 
 
 In spite of her moral antecedents, Madame 
 Talhen's gay and genial influence led the new 
 social reaction 'among a large class which other- 
 wise might have been able to retard, if not de- 
 feat it. 
 
 Madame de Stael reappeared in the metropolis 
 to exert a still higher influence. The reopening of 
 her salon was a restoration of the best ante-revolu- 
 tionary society. One of tlie highest authorities 
 says that ' she reappeared in France and founded 
 there anew the spirit of Society. After those times 
 of rudeness and cruelty, when anarchy had almost 
 become barbarism, she reintroduced the influence 
 of woman. These facts are historical. We behold 
 
 3 M6m.de laDuchesse (TAbrantcs, ii. 5. 18 vols. Paris, 1831,
 
 XI. 
 
 Parisian Society. 179 
 
 in her the restoration of the normal spii-it of France 
 . after the storms of the Eevolution,' * 
 
 The society of the city, as she found it, ' was,' 
 slie writes, ' indeed a curious spectacle. The influ- 
 ence of women, the ascendency of good company, 
 the salons dores (as they were called) excited the 
 jealousy of those who were not admitted to them ; 
 their pohtical colleagues who were invited were 
 considered to be the victims of seduction.' This 
 very jealousy served as a provocation to egotism 
 and vanity, and promoted the triumphs of the 
 salons. ' One saw,' continues Madame de Stael, 
 ' on the Decade (for the Sunday had been abolished) 
 all the elements of tlie old and new regimes, united 
 in the soirees, but not yet reconciled. The ele- 
 gant manners of well-educated persons contrasted 
 strangely with the humble costume which many 
 still retained — their protection during the Eeign of 
 Terror. Men, converted from the Jacobin party, 
 entered for the first time into the society of the 
 grand monde, and their self-love was more sensitive 
 about the etiquette of the manners Avhich they 
 wished to imitate than on any other subject. The 
 women of the old regime surrounded them, in 
 order to obtain the restoration of their exiled 
 brothers, sons, and husbands ; and the gracious 
 flatteries which they knew so well how to use 
 struck these rude ears, and predisposed the most 
 
 * "Villemain, Cows de la Litteraturc Fran^aise, iv. Paris, 1873. 
 N 2
 
 i8o Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 factious to the changes which followed — to the re- 
 establishment of a court mth even its abuses, but 
 not without the appropriation of them for their 
 own advantage.' They became apologetic, at first, 
 for the late atrocities ; then emulated one another 
 in condemning them. 
 
 Daily the reactionary spirit grows stronger. 
 Hundreds wear crape on their left arm, in token 
 of their bereavements by the guillotine, and call 
 themselves ' victims.' They can now resent, thus 
 far at least, the sufferings of their broken house- 
 holds. Tlie jeunesse doree (as Freron named them), 
 the gilded youth, appear in the sakms, the cafes, 
 the streets, with reactionary audacity — ^young 
 coxcombs in dress and manners, but valorous at 
 heart as only French coxcombs have been — and 
 defy the sans-culotte heroes. They carry blud- 
 geons loaded with metal, and do not hesitate to 
 use them on the heads of unrelenting democrats. 
 Duels are frequent, and desperately fatal. Evi- 
 dently France is again in transition. The Car- 
 magnoles are passing away ; the old gallantry, 
 both in society and war, is resuming its sway, and, 
 with it, the gilded depravity — if less offensive, yet 
 hardly less corrupt, than the vulgar depravity of 
 the Revolution — the depravity which had ruined 
 France, and which is still to render precarious her 
 public order and her Hberties. 
 
 ' Many of us,' says Madame de Stael, ' had 
 emigrant friends whose restoration we were busy
 
 XI. 
 
 Talleyrand. i8i 
 
 in soliciting. I obtained at this epoch many re- 
 calls, and, in consequence, the Deputy Legendre, 
 a man of the people, denounced me from the tri- 
 bune.' Her husband, sitting in state in his ' loge,' 
 had to hear in silence this tirade ; but Barras 
 defended her. 
 
 In the confused reactionary state of pubhc 
 opinion, her influence was felt by both parties ; 
 the Jacobins dreaded it, the reactionists courted 
 it. The heroic generosity which had led her 
 to face death for the safety of her friends, in the 
 terrors of the Eevolution, was unabated, and she 
 was incessantly labouring for the restoration of 
 proscribed exiles. When Talleyrand was still far 
 away beyond the sea she did not forget him, but 
 succeeded in opening the way for his return. 
 Ohenier, the poet, who had been active in the Ee- 
 volution, yielded to at least a literary sympathy 
 with her genius, and was induced by her to dehver 
 a speech in the Convention in behalf of ' Citi- 
 zen Talleyrand.' The ex-bishop and ex-statesman 
 was permitted to return. Her management with 
 Barras led to his appointment to the department 
 of Foreign Afiairs under the Directory, and he was 
 thus enabled to resume that remarkable public 
 career which identified him for so many years 
 with the history of Europe. 
 
 Dupont de Nemours, whom she describes as 
 * the most chivalric champion of hberty in France,' 
 was in peril. ' I heard,' she says, ' of the danger
 
 1 82 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 he was in, and sought Chenier, who at my 
 mstance had dehvered the speech to which 
 Talleyrand owed his recall. The poet was a man 
 of tender susceptibility. He was moved at the 
 picture of the situation of Dupont de Nemours 
 and his family, and hastened to the tribune, where 
 he saved him.'^ 
 
 These benevolent efforts endangered her own 
 safety. ' Some words of a General, who accused me 
 pubhcly of sympathy for conspirators, compelled me 
 to quit Paris. I went to the country house of one of 
 my friends, where, by a singular chance, I discovered 
 one of the most illustrious and most heroic of the 
 royahsts of La Vendee, the Prince de la Tremoille, 
 for whose head a price had been offered. I wished 
 to cede to him the asylum which he needed more 
 than I. We were indeed astonished that the same 
 danger had befallen us both, notwithstanding our 
 very different antecedents.' There was a magnani- 
 mous contention between them, each claiming the 
 honour of retiring for the safety of the other. The 
 gallant royalist refused to accept her proposal, and 
 hastened out of France. She remained in conceal- 
 ment till the peril had passed, when she returned 
 to the capital, to resume her hazardous endea- 
 vours for her emigrant friends. 
 
 M. de Montbreton called upon her, entreating 
 her to rescue his brother, Narvins, who had been 
 arrested, and would doubtless be condemned to 
 
 ° C(msidcrations &c. iii. 25.
 
 XI. Narvins de Montbreton. 1 8 
 
 o 
 
 death by the mihtary commission which was in 
 session trying him. She could not hope to in- 
 fluence the Directory in such a case ; nor could 
 she consent to do nothing for a man whom she had 
 known, and who would be shot in two hours if no 
 one came to his succour. ' I recollected,' she writes, 
 ' that I had seen, with Barras, a General Lemoine, 
 and that he had appeared to converse cordially 
 with me. He commanded the division of Paris, 
 and had the right of suspending the judgments of 
 the Mihtary Commission estabhshed in the city. I 
 thanked God for this idea, and went instantly, with 
 the brother of the unhappy Narvins, to the General, 
 who was astonished to see me. He commenced 
 the conversation by making apologies for his morn- 
 ing toilet, and for his apartments. I supphcated 
 him not to lose a moment on these matters, as that 
 momentary loss might be irreparable. I hastily 
 stated the purpose of my visit ; at first he refused 
 me absolutely. My heart trembled at the aspect 
 of the brother, who might think that I had not 
 used the right words for the emergency. I repeated 
 my solicitations, and collected all my forces to give 
 them effect. I was fearful of saying too much or 
 too Httle, of delaying beyond what might be the 
 fatal hour, of neglecting a single argument which 
 might be available. I looked one moment at the 
 clock, another at the General, to see which of the 
 two powers, his mind or time, approached most 
 quickly to its conclusion. Thrice he took up the
 
 1 84 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 pen to sign tlie reprieve, and thrice was he arrested 
 by the fear of compromising himself At last he 
 conld no longer resist. He signed the document, 
 and Monsieur de Montbreton flew with it to the 
 tribunal.' It broke up the session; the accused 
 was saved, though he had confessed enough to ruin 
 him. 
 
 At another period she exerted herself to the 
 utmost in behalf of her old friend Lafayette, then 
 in the prison of Olmutz. She wrote letters, full of 
 urgency and eloquence, to Governeur Morris (re- 
 presentative of the Government of tlie United States 
 of America), beseeching his intervention, and that 
 of his country, for the illustrious prisoner. ' I am,' 
 she said, ' more afflicted than anj^ other person, I 
 believe, by the situation of Lafayette, Open the 
 doors of his prison ! You have saved his wife from 
 death ; oh, be the saviour of all his family ; pay the 
 debt of your country ! ' Eleven days later she 
 renews her appeal to him, with intenser feeling, if 
 possible. A daughter could not plead more affec- 
 tionately for a father.^ 
 
 She gives a reason for her zeal in such cases : 
 it is, however, purely a woman's reason. ' It is 
 the duty of us women,' she says, ' to succour at all 
 times individuals accused for political opinions, 
 whatever they may be ; for what are opinions in 
 times of party violence ? Can we be certain that, 
 
 " These letters may be fouud in the Revue Retrospective, p. 473. 
 Paris, 1834.
 
 XI. 
 
 Hej" Sensitiveness. 185 
 
 in this or tliat change of situation, we should 
 not change our view of the case ? ' Her woman's 
 heart controlled her, in all such instances ; her 
 sentiments placed in abeyance her mascuhne judg- 
 ment. In the presence of appeals to her sympathies 
 she was ever Corinne, never the acute thinker of 
 the ' AUemagne.' It has already been remarked 
 that no sufferings of her own distressed her as much 
 as the sufferings of others. Her sensitiveness in 
 this respect was morbid and insupportable ; but, 
 instead of shrinking from scenes of distress, she 
 plunged into them with the peculiar moral courage, 
 the recklessness, of woman, resolute to reheve 
 them, or perish in the attempt. This was the 
 necessary relief to her own agonised heart. We 
 have seen her risk her Hfe for her friends amid 
 horrors before which the stoutest will mig;ht have 
 recoiled. In the introduction to her work on the ^' 
 ' Influence of the Passions ' (which was prompted 
 by the terrors of the Ee volution), she says that 
 * her only object, in writing it, has been to show 
 how we may diminish somewhat the intensity 
 of the sufferings of the soul. The image of the 
 unfortunate, under whatever aspect it presents itself, 
 pursues and oppresses me. Alas ! I have suffered 
 so much myself, that an inexpressible sympathy, 
 a painful inquietude, seizes me at the tliought 
 of the woes of all and of each ; of tlie inevitable 
 chagrins of hfe, the torments of the imagination, 
 the reverses of the just man, and even the remorse 
 
 t
 
 1 86 Madame de Stael. ch, 
 
 , of the guilty ; of the wounds of the heart, the most 
 
 A touching of all ; and the regrets for which we 
 blush without suffering them less ; — in fine, of all 
 for which our tears flow : tears which the ancients 
 collected in a consecrated urn — so much did they 
 respect the sorrows of man.' 
 
 This feminine sensibility, this predominance 
 of her womanly heart over her manly intellect, is 
 one of the most admirable charms of her character. 
 In her hours of happiness it rendered her irresis- 
 tibly fascinating. She gave herself up to her 
 spontaneous sentiments ; she was overflowing with 
 joy, with admiration for what was well said 
 or done ; fond and caressing to all who enjoyed 
 her confidence ; excessive in her commendations 
 and encouragements ; addicted to an abandon 
 which was sometimes mahciously criticised. In 
 her hours of sadness (and they were frequent) 
 it gave her a boundless sympathy. Her cousin, 
 Madame Necker de Saussure, fingers, after her 
 death, with emotion over this phase of her cha- 
 racter. ' It was,' she writes, ' near her unfortunate 
 friends that slie displayed the greatest power of 
 her nature. Carried away by profound and rapid 
 feelinfj. it seemed that she would search through 
 eartli and heaven for some refief to their suflerings. 
 Everything ingenious, everything good, that she 
 could think of, was used to divert their attention ; to 
 illuminate, were it but for a moment, the sombre 
 clouds of distress. She seemed to dispose of the
 
 XI, Her Sensibility . 187 
 
 future ; to create one expressly for the sufferer ; 
 in which, by the force of her friendship, she would 
 restore all things. The evils of the imagination 
 (well understood by her) were alleviated by means 
 as singular as themselves. With wliat avidity 
 she listened ! An ardent curiosity for the im- 
 pressions of sincere minds so evidently mingled 
 with her tenderness, that they could never have 
 fear of fatiguing her while confiding to her theh^ 
 sorrows. Her soul blended with that of the suf- 
 ferer ; and her large explanation of the case en- 
 abled the victim to feel that God was accomphshing 
 His sanctifying work in the soul, by salutary 
 tliough terrible trials. Ah ! it is frightful to have 
 to suffer without her ! We know not what to do 
 with the sentiments which she shared with us. 
 There is something akin to remorse in the grief 
 we experience in losing her ; for our regrets seem 
 not disinterested. We feel exiled from a delicious 
 region, where we had enjoyments which can never 
 again be ours. She was, herself, as charming as 
 her gifts ; and then, she was the medium through 
 which one received all that was interesting, in- 
 structive, and worthy of attention on earth. One 
 feels a curtailment, an impoverishment of one's 
 own existence in the loss of her ; we have lost a 
 part of ourselves, and we weep alone.' 
 
 Only in hopeless, irremediable affliction, such as 
 silence and time alone could mitigate, did she fail. 
 Madame Necker de Saussure records a touching?
 
 1 88 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 example. She had lost by death an ' angehc 
 daughter,' and wrote to Madame de Stael for con- 
 solation, but no answer came. The afflicted mother 
 supposed her letter had failed to reach Coppet. 
 Months afterwards she alluded to it, in conversa- 
 tion. Madame de Stael abruptly ceased to speak, 
 and became troubled and pallid. 'What is the 
 matter with you ? ' exclaimed her cousin. ' I 
 could not answer it,' was the reply ; and, hesitating 
 and sobbing, she added, ' Let us speak of it no 
 more, let us never allude to it again,' and hastened 
 from the room, ' all in tears.' ^ Many a woman 
 has, we may believe, had equal sensibility ; but 
 add to it the exalted genius of the ' Corinne,' and 
 the profound intellect of the ' AUemagne,' and we 
 have the supreme woman of literary history, 
 Madame de Stael — ever the genuine woman, 
 though often the manly thinker. Benjamin Con- 
 stant (whose relations witli her were more intimate 
 than those of any other man beyond the circle 
 of her immediate kindred) says : ' Her two most 
 predominant qualities were affection and pity. She 
 had, like all superior minds, a strong passion for 
 fame ; she had, like all elevated souls, a strong love 
 of liberty ; but these two sentiments, imperious 
 and irresistible when not combated by another, 
 ceded instantly wlien the least circumstances 
 placed them in opposition to the happiness of 
 tliose that she loved, or whenever the sight of a 
 
 ^ Notice &c.
 
 XI. Her Essay on the Passions. 189 
 
 sufferino: being reminded her tliat there was in the 
 world sometliing much more sacred for her than the 
 success of a cause, or the triumph of an oj)inion.' ^ 
 
 While devoting herself to beneficent and 
 hazardous services for her friends in Paris, two 
 important tasks occupied her leisure : one was 
 the education of her son, the other the composition 
 of her work on ' The Influence of the Passions.' 
 
 Her treatise on ' The Influence of the Passions 
 on the Happiness of Individuals and Nations ' was a 
 premature, but not, as usually represented, a hasty 
 production. She had begun it, as we have seen, 
 before her first visit to England, for parts of it were 
 read in the Httle colony of Mickleham ; and Talley- 
 rand, who, if no great authority in literature, was 
 certainly an astute critic of human nature, said, 
 while hearing those readings, that ' nothing was 
 ever better conceived or more felicitously ex- 
 pressed.' She was certainly preparing this book 
 through some three or four years, but amidst the 
 worst possible distractions : much of the time a 
 fugitive, and several times in imminent danger of 
 death. The pubhc disorders suggested its theme, 
 and gave to the work its melancholy tone. Her 
 faculties had not yet attained the philosopliic self- 
 command and vigour which a subject so purely 
 didactic demands. Had she written it at the time 
 of the production of her ' Germany,' it would have 
 been a very different work. In excusing, at a 
 
 ^ Constant's Melanges^ viii. Paris, 1829.
 
 igo Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 later date, its defence of suicide, she herself speaks 
 of it as a premature production of her youth. ^ It 
 was pubhshed at Lausanne and Paris, in two duo- 
 decimo volumes. The second part, on the ' Influence 
 of the Passions on Nations,' was never written, but 
 her plan for it is detailed in the Introduction. In the 
 completed part she discusses the influence, on indi- 
 vidual happiness, of ambition, vanity, love, avarice, 
 party spirit, friendship, the conjugal and parental 
 affections, rehgion, philosophy, beneficence, &c. 
 Her classification is defective, her definitions vague, 
 and the general temper of the work is morbidly 
 sad. It is an example of the epidemic melancholy 
 of the age, as we see it beginning chiefly in tlie 
 writings of Kousseau, pervading the Werther of 
 Goethe, and culminating in the cynicism of Byron, 
 — the ' Sturm und Drang ' period of European 
 literature. A sensitive woman, suffering amid the 
 actual tragedies of the French Eevolution, her 
 pensive sentimentahsm is more excusable than that 
 of her more fortunate literary contemporaries, 
 who were comparatively distant spectators of the 
 harrowing scenes which surrounded her. With all 
 its faults, the essay on ' The Influence of the 
 Passions ' is a notable book, as the production of a 
 feminine pen. It abounds in profound reflections, 
 
 ^ In lier Reflections on Suicide (1812), she says : *I have praised 
 the act of suicide, in my ■work on The Injluetxce of the Passions, but I 
 have ever since regretted that inconsiderate word. I was then in all 
 the pride and vivacity of early youth, but we live to learn.'
 
 XI. 
 
 Auguste de Stael. 191 
 
 in striking individual tliouglits, in brilliant descrip- 
 tions. Impartial critics will generally accept 
 Chenier's judgment upon it — that 'it presents 
 rich and varied pictures, the power to move the 
 heart, traits of ingenuity, of originality, and above 
 all of independence.' ^ One of the best of later 
 critics, after commenting on the defects of the 
 book, says, ' but I acknowledge that in readino- 
 these pages, so irresistible in their energy, so 
 dazzhng with thought, one hardly perceives their 
 faults. Eloquence covers all, and we can say of 
 the author, as of the hero in a certain modern 
 tragedy, her faults are hid in the splendours of her 
 glory.' 2 Its final lesson is of the highest ethical 
 character. In sketching its scheme, in her Intro- 
 duction, she says : ' Following tliis plan, I beheve 
 I have proved that there is no happiness without 
 virtue ; to have reached this result by so many 
 routes, is a new proof of its verity.' 
 
 Auguste, afterwards Baron de Stael-Holstein, 
 was now advancing through his j^romisino- child- 
 hood. His mother was, in her ever-varying circum- 
 stances, assiduous in his education. JSTecker had 
 been, and was stiU later, devoted to his trainino- at 
 Coppet. He spent some years in study at the 
 college of Geneva. Accompanjdng his mother to 
 
 ^ J. de Clieuier, Tableau de la Litterature Frangaise depuis 1789. 
 (Euvres, tome iii. Paris, 1819. He places her among ' the great 
 writers of her age.' 
 
 * Vinet's Etudes sur la Litterature Frangaise au IQemc gi^cli 
 tome i. Paris, 1857.
 
 192 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CH. 
 
 Germany, he came under the tuition of SchlegeL 
 He afterwards studied in Paris, and returning to 
 Coppet, was again under the care of Schlegel and 
 of the Pastor Cellerier. From the latter he re- 
 ceived the rehgious bias which characterised his 
 useful but modest manhood. Madame de Stael 
 attempted an experiment in his education — train- 
 ing him without corporal chastisement, without 
 even the use of authority. She had been a victim, 
 in her early childhood, of parental rigour ; and it 
 had left with her memories which rendered it ab- 
 horrent to her generous nature. She believed that 
 the child who could not be governed and success- 
 fully reared by kindness and love, could not be by 
 any other means ; that his failure under such a 
 regimen necessarily implied inherent vices, which 
 severity could only aggravate, at last, though it 
 might temj)orarily seem to repress them, or rather 
 transmute them into dissimulation and hypocrisy 
 — to her, the worst of vices. She was successful, 
 and her son, though he did not inherit her genius, 
 exemplified every moral excellence which adorned 
 her own character. He clung to her through all 
 the vicissitudes of her life of exile, with the fondest 
 aifecti'on. At the Eestoration (1813) he returned 
 with her to Paris. Being a devoted Protestant, he 
 took a conspicuous part in the religious and phi- 
 lanthropic societies of his Church ; he was one of 
 the founders of the French Bible Society, of the 
 Mutual Aid Society, and the Society of Christian
 
 XI, 
 
 August e de Sta'el. 193 
 
 Morals, of which he became President. He shared in 
 nearly every important movement of the French 
 Protestantism of his times. By repeated visits to 
 England, he became a zealous coadjutor of the 
 Christian philanthropists of that country. Sir 
 Walter Scott said that he was the only Frenchman 
 he had ever met who could speak Enghsh as cor- 
 rectly as a native. He maintained intimate relations 
 with Wilberforce, and was a conspicuous represen- 
 tative of the anti-slavery cause in France, and 
 effectively promoted it by his pen. His hterary 
 culture was large and varied. With his brother-in- 
 law, the Due de Broglie, he edited the posthumous 
 works of his mother (18 vols. Paris, 1820-21), and 
 a complete collection of the works of his grand- 
 father (Necker), with an able introductory narra- 
 tive of his hfe, and defence of his official conduct. 
 He wrote several occasional pamphlets, mostly on 
 public questions ; and ' Lettres sur I'Ano-leterre,' a 
 study of the rehgious and philanthropical aspects 
 of Enghsh society. The latter years of his hfe were 
 spent at Coppet, where he was distinguished by his 
 devotion to philanthropy and to agricultural science, 
 and where he died, November 11, 1827. He rests 
 worthily among the illustrious dead in the family 
 cemetery. His sister, the Duchesse de Broglie 
 (who shared his intellectual and moral accomplisli- 
 ments), published in 1829 his ' CEuvres Diverses,' 
 with a biographical introduction, in five vols. 8vo. 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 MADAME DE STAEL AND BONAPARTE. 
 
 A new Epoch in her Life — Pier Relations to Napoleon — The Cause of 
 his Hostility — His Character — Anecdotes — Sophie Gay — Invasion 
 of Switzerland — Scenes at Coppet. 
 
 We now approach a new and important epoch in 
 this brave hfe-struggle — the period of the 'Dix 
 Annees d'Exil ' — the ten years of exile — in which 
 tlie ahiiost sohtary hterary woman confronted, with 
 unswerving steadfastness, the greatest of mihtary 
 men since the first of the Roman Csesars : never 
 compromising her opinions, ever maintaining her 
 intellectual independence, with all Europe for the 
 theatre of the extraordinary contest. 
 
 Most of the hterary men of the time had either 
 succumbed to the great conqueror, or were wander- 
 ing, like Chateaubriand, in England, or America, 
 or beyond the Rhine. ^ Madame de Stael constantly 
 endeavoured to maintain her ground in France. 
 Her dearest social predilections were sacrificed ; 
 
 1 Chateaubriand returned and accepted office under Napoleon. 
 He properly enough served his master at Home and in the Valais. 
 The murder of the Due d'Enghien could alone restore his loyalty to 
 his principles.
 
 XII. Bonaparte s Hostility. 195 
 
 her dearest personal friends were, one after another, 
 mvolved in her proscription ; the prospects of her 
 children, especially of her eldest son, in the new 
 pubhc order, were bhghted ; her and their fortune 
 was imperilled ; the payment of the two millions, 
 lent by her father to the Government, was prof- 
 fered her by Napoleon, if she would be recon- 
 ciled to him, but was refused. She had instinctively 
 detected his supreme egotism and the despotism of 
 his pohcy; she was loyal to the hberties of her 
 country and the convictions of her conscience, and 
 no bribery could shake the firmness of her soul. 
 
 That her womanly heart felt inexpressibly the 
 anguish of these sufferings, only adds to the moral 
 sublimity of her example. Wliatever may be said 
 of the frequent, the irrepressible outcries of that 
 anguish, in her letters and other writings, the spec- 
 tacle of her unyielding persistence — of this pro- 
 longed and unrelenting contest between the greatest 
 soldier and greatest female author of the age, — is 
 one for which the whole literary world may well 
 be for ever proud. Hard and long as the struo-ole 
 was, her genius, as well as her will, triumphantly 
 maintained its ascendancy. Pursued by unremit- 
 ting persecution, a wanderer over Europe, her 
 faculties nevertlieless strengthened and flowered 
 amidst her desolation. It was the period in 
 which she gave to the world her greatest works 
 — her essay on ' Literature,' her ' Delphine,' her 
 ' Corinne,' her ' AUemagne.' Her oppressor, years 
 
 o 2
 
 196 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 later, wlien she was emancipated and the idol of 
 intellectual Europe, and he an exile himself on St. 
 Helena, was to read there these immortal works ; 
 and, though affecting to depreciate them, and utter- 
 ing self-refuting libels on her character, was com- 
 pelled to acknowledge that ' No one can deny that 
 she is a woman of grand talent, of extraordinary 
 intellect ; she will last.' ^ 
 
 She begins the record of her ' Ten Years of 
 Exile,' by declaring that ' Napoleon has persecuted 
 me with a minute care, with an ever-increasing 
 activity, with an inflexible rudeness ; and my re- 
 lations with him served to make him known to 
 me long before Europe comprehended him. The 
 greatest grievance which he felt towards me was 
 from that love of liberty which I have ever che- 
 rished, which has been transmitted to me as a 
 heritage, and which has been nourished in me by 
 reflection on the great principles in which it is 
 founded, and the glorious deeds which it inspires. 
 The cruel scenes of the French Eevolution have not 
 been able to impair with me the homage due to 
 hberty. Its misfortunes in France should not 
 proscribe it over the world. Wlien the sun dis- 
 appears from the horizon of the lands of the far 
 North, their inhabitants do not accuse his rays 
 which still shine on countries more favoured by 
 heaven.' ^ 
 
 ''■ Las Cases, Memorial de Sainfe-Helene, t. vii. p. 124. Paris, 1840. 
 ^ Dix Annees d'Exil, i. 1.
 
 XII. 
 
 Bonaparte. 197 
 
 She at first shared the enthusiasm of her 
 oountrymeii for the young hero, especially as he 
 persistently avowed loyalty to the Eepubhc. His 
 extraordinary genius seemed a providential gift to 
 the nation, for the promotion of its fame, and the 
 protection of the great political improvements 
 which it had gained through so many misfortunes. 
 * We were dazzled,' she writes, ' by his achieve- 
 ments at the head of the army of Italy. The 
 superiority of his understanding in affairs, joined to 
 the splendour of his talents as a general, gave to 
 his name an importance never yet acquired by any 
 individual since the commencement of the Revo- 
 lution. But though he spoke constantly, in his 
 proclamations, of the Eepublic, thoughtful men 
 began to perceive that it was, in his eyes, a means, 
 not an end. All tilings, all men, were thus only 
 means for him. The report was spread that he 
 wished to make himself King of Lombardy. One 
 day I met General Augereau, who liad just come 
 from Italy, and who was then a zealous Republican. 
 I asked liim if it were true that Bonaparte wislied 
 to make himself King. " Assuredly not," he replied, 
 " he is too elevated a young man for that." Tliis 
 reply was entirely in accord with tlie public opi- 
 nion of the moment.'* Again, she writes: 'We 
 were so tired of oppressors who borrowed the name 
 of hberty, and of the oppressed who wislied the 
 restoration of arbitrary power, that our admiration 
 
 ■* Curmderations Sec. iii. 24.
 
 1 98 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 knew no bounds. Bonaparte seemed to combine 
 in himself all that ought to captivate us. It was 
 with this sentiment that I, at least, first saw him at 
 Paris. I could not find words to reply to him, 
 when he came to me and said he had sought an 
 interview with my father at Coppet, and regretted 
 that he had to pass through Switzerland without 
 seeing him.' 
 
 But his flattering attentions could not deceive 
 her penetrating insight. Her genius was clair- 
 voyant in reading character. She felt that she 
 was conversing with a man great in talents, but who 
 was destitute of the moral sense ; whose ambition 
 knew nothing of patriotism, and combined, con- 
 trary to most examples of real greatness, in an 
 equal degree j:)ride and vanity ; whose supreme 
 egotism, capricious by its conflicting pride and 
 vanity, would endanger the safety of France as 
 well as of all individuals who should have re- 
 lations with him without abject self-abnegation. 
 She thus certainly comprehended the true nature 
 of the man, the enigma of his singular character. 
 Its secret was not his consummate egotism, but the 
 fact that his vanity was as consummate as his 
 pride. A great man may be too proud to be vain. 
 Great military men have usually been too self- 
 rehant to be sensitive to individual opinion. Napo- 
 leon was morbidly sensitive to it. No man was 
 ever more resentful of personal opposition ; no one 
 ever more highly prized public ovations or popular
 
 XII. 
 
 Bonaparte. 199 
 
 applause.^ Tlie proclamations or bulletins of no 
 other great captain ever approached his in gran- 
 diloquent or melodramatic style. We look in vain 
 for any similar example of vanity in the military 
 papers of his own conqueror, WelHngton ; in those 
 of the great Frederick ; in those of the greater 
 Washington ; in the records of his own campaigns 
 by C^sar. 
 
 While all Europe was ringing with his praises, 
 Napoleon was stung to the quick by the refusal of 
 this solitary woman to recognise and applaud him. 
 We shall see him destroying the whole first edition 
 of her greatest book, ten thousand copies of her 
 ' AUemagne,' not because it had a sino;le sentence 
 directed against him (for it had none whatever), 
 but because it had not one for him. The strength 
 of his vanity was the weakness of his character, 
 and the ruin of his career. Its only redeeming 
 fact was the involuntary homage it paid to the 
 superb intellect which it persecuted, but could not 
 vanquish. It was the means of giving to the world 
 the most remarkable example of the triumph of 
 the pen over the sword and sceptre, that history 
 records. 
 
 ' When I was a little relieved from the embar- 
 rassment of my admiration,' continues Madame de 
 Stael, speaking of their first interview, ' a singular 
 
 ^ ' He was happy ; and with what effusion he said to me one day, 
 on returning' from a parade, " Bourrienne, do you hear those acclama- 
 tions which still continue ? They are as sweet to me as the voice of 
 Josephine."' — Bouriienne's Memoires, iv. 14. Paris, 1830.
 
 200 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 sentiment of fear seized me. The dread he inspired 
 was caused entirely l)y the pecuhar impression of 
 his character on all who approached him. I had 
 seen men very worthy of respect : I had seen 
 also ferocious men ; there was nothing in the im- 
 pression that Bonaparte made on me, that re- 
 called the one or the other. I perceived quickly, 
 on the different occasions that I met him, during 
 his stay in Paris, that his character could not be 
 defined by the words which we are accustomed to 
 use in characterising other men. It was neither 
 good, nor violent, nor tender, nor cruel, as in other 
 cases. Such a being, having no parallel, could 
 neither feel nor inspire any sympathy ; he was 
 more or less than a man. His turn of mind, his 
 spirit, his courage, were stamped with something 
 strange.' Far from being reassured by frequent 
 interviews with him, ' I only became,' she says, ' the 
 more intimidated. I saw that no emotion of the 
 heart could act on him. A human being was to 
 him but a fact, like any other fact ; important only 
 so ftir as he could use it. The force of his will 
 consisted in the imperturbable calculations of his 
 egotism. Every time I heard him speak I was 
 struck with his superiority. Meanwhile, nothing 
 could lessen my repugnance to what I perceived in 
 him. It was in the interval between his return 
 from Italy and his departure for Egj^pt (towards 
 the end of 1794), that I saw liim often ni Paris, 
 and never could the difficulty of breathing in his 
 presence be relieved. I was one day between him
 
 XII. Bonaparte s Manners. 201 
 
 and Sieyes at dinner — a singular situation ! I ex- 
 amined with attention tlie face of Bonaparte, but 
 whenever he noticed that I observed his features, 
 he had the power of dismissing from his eyes all 
 expression, as if he were become marble. His 
 manner in society was constrained, without being 
 timid ; it had something disdainful when reserved, 
 and vulgar when at ease.'^ 
 
 Bjs vulgarity, ' when at ease,' was especially 
 manifest in his conversation with women, — a 
 maladroit effect of his vanity — the affectation of a 
 superiority which should exempt him from the 
 conventional demands of courtesy. He delighted 
 to embarrass them by his abruptness ; by peremp- 
 tory remarks which admitted of no reply ; and 
 even by rudeness of language, which could not 
 fail at once to perplex and to mortify them. 
 Bourrienne tells us that this abruptness and vul- 
 garity before ladies was not at all unusual with 
 him ; that he often addressed to them the excla- 
 mations, ' How red your elbows are ! ' ' What a 
 strange head-dress you wear ! ' ' Pray tell me, do 
 you ever change your gown ? ' ^ To one of the most 
 beautiful and accomphshed women of his court, 
 Madame Eeynault, then but twenty-eight years 
 old, he said, in a moment of ill-humour, ' Do you 
 know, Madame, that you are aging terribly ? ' and 
 this in full court, witli hundreds of women around 
 
 ^ Considerations, iii. 20. Prof. Jules Barni gives a severe but 
 just review of Napoleon's treatment of Madame de Stael, in Les 
 Martyrs de la Libre Pensee, chap. x. Geneva, 18G2. 
 
 ^ Memoires sur Napolcmi, iii. 13.
 
 202 Aladamc dc Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 lier, jealous of her sii])enor charms and taleuts. 
 Her answer was a lesson of good manners to him : 
 ' What your Majesty does me the honour to say to 
 me would be very painful to hear, were I of an 
 age to be afflicted by it.' Turning to the Duchesse 
 d'Abrantes (the young and still more accomphsh- 
 ed wife of Junot), he remarked, ' Well, Madame 
 Junot, you do not dance. Is it because you are 
 too old to dance ? ' 'A similar phrase,' says 
 the Duchesse, ' was addressed to another young 
 lady who was near me, the wife of Duroc, I think.' 
 No woman has said more in defence of Napoleon 
 than Madame Junot, but she describes his Court 
 as often ' trembling ' at his entrance, especially 
 women. She remarks that ' when he said a pain- 
 ful word to a woman, he never persisted if she 
 answered him with respect and spirit.' ^ He 
 recoiled before men, and even women, of intellect, 
 as Milton's devil at the touch of Ithuriel's spear. 
 Meneval, his secretary, says that his favourite 
 caress, particularly for women, was to pinch their 
 shoulders, ears, or noses, sometimes making the 
 blood flow. Madame Junot often records her 
 sufferings from these Bruinian manners. With- 
 out one drop of French blood in liis veins, he knew 
 nothing of the politesse, the sentiment, without 
 which gallantry itself is disgusting to a French- 
 man, and especially to a Frencli woman. Even 
 the wife of Scarron, and (still worse) of Louis XIV. 
 — Madame de Maintenon — could say that ' delicacy 
 
 ® Memoires dc la Duchesse dAhrantbs, ix. 10.
 
 XII. 
 
 Anecdotes. 203 
 
 is to love what grace is to beauty.' Napoleon was 
 Corsican in heart as well as in blood. 
 
 Madame de Stael soon became aware of the 
 paltry weaknesses of the great man, and feared, 
 she says, ' that he might address to me some of 
 those rude expressions which he often took pleasure 
 in addressing to ladies, even when they paid court 
 to him.' ' For this reason,' she adds, ' when invited 
 to a party at General Berthier's, where the First 
 Consul was to be, I wrote down a number of tart 
 and poignant replies to what he might have to say. 
 Had he chosen to insult me, it would have shown 
 a want both of character and understanding to 
 have been taken by surprise ; and as no one 
 could be sure of being unembarrassed in the pre- 
 sence of such a man, I prepared myself to brave 
 him. Fortunately the precaution was unnecessar}^- ; 
 he only addressed the most common questions 
 to me.' ^ 
 
 She was less fortunate on another occasion, if 
 we may beUeve Napoleon himself, whose word was 
 always doubtful in such cases. In attempting, at 
 St. Helena, to make her ridiculous to Las Cases, he 
 told him that, prompted by her vanity, and expect- 
 ing a flattering answer, she once asked him, ' whom 
 he considered the greatest woman in the world, 
 Hving or dead ? ' ' Her, madame,' I replied, ' who 
 has borne the most children.' She was disconcerted, 
 and remarked that he was ' reported not to be a 
 great admirer of the fair sex.' ' I am very fond of 
 
 ^ Dix Annees &c.
 
 204 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 my wife,' lie replied, and abruptly turned away.^ 
 He insists, in this conversation with Las Cases, that 
 she was in love with him. The whole conversa- 
 tion appears more than doubtful. This piquant 
 story, so often cited, but originally from Napoleon 
 himself, bears on its face the marks of its falsehood. 
 He tells Las Cases that the conversation took place 
 in the brilliant company at the fete given him by 
 Talleyrand, on his return from Italy. At this time 
 Madame de Stael, though well known by her con- 
 versational powers, had no important literary re- 
 putation. She had pubhshed only some minor 
 works — her diminutive volume on Eousseau, her 
 hardly known ' Morceaux,' or Novellettes, her un- 
 finished essay on the ' Passions ' which was considered 
 a failure, and a few pamphlets. Her essay on 
 ' Literature,' her ' Delphine,' ' Corinne,' 'Germany/ 
 were all still unwritten. That such a woman, in 
 such circumstances, should have had the immense 
 
 ^ The celebrated Sophie Gay, a friend and defender of Madame de 
 Stael, was less timid before him, and repelled his cynicism by her 
 ready repartee. She was intimate with his sister Pauline, and met 
 him at her house, in Aix-la-Chapelle. In passing near the yoimg 
 authoress, he addressed her rouglily, and with the eagle glance before 
 which most women cowered : — ' Madame, my sister has told you that 
 I do not like intellectual women.' ' Yes, Sire,' she responded, not at 
 all disconcerted, ' Yes, Sire ; but I did not believe her.' The 
 Emperor was surprised, and tried again. 'You write — do you not? 
 What have you produced since you have been in this country ? ' ' Three 
 children. Sire,' was her proud reply. He passed on, affecting a smile. 
 The woman's esiyrit was too much for his own. One of these children was 
 Delphine, well known in our day as the accomplished authoress, 
 Madame Girardin. Biographie Universelle, xvi.
 
 XII. Napoleoiis Mendacity. 205 
 
 vanity to desire to be acknowledged as the ' great- 
 est ' of her sex, ' dead or hving,' is a supposition too 
 ridiculous to be admitted. If she asked the ques- 
 tion, it could have been with no such egotism. Lite- 
 rary vanity, even when associated with real talent, 
 has often been foolishly exacting, but such folly as 
 this is utterly incredible. In a woman of Madame 
 de Stael's good sense it would seem impossible. 
 Napoleon's vanity overshot its mark in attempting,, 
 by this fiction, to make out a good case for himself. 
 A high authority justly describes Las Cases' book 
 as a work ' written under the dictation of a hero 
 who too frequently has wished to he {inentir) to 
 posterity.' ^ Las Cases himself was an emigre^ 
 and prejudiced against all who, like Necker and his 
 daughter, had promoted the Eevoiution. 
 
 Bourrienne wrote with Las Cases' ' Memorial ' 
 under his eyes, and probably exaggerated his own 
 recollections by the aid of its statements ; yet he 
 acknowledges its lack of truthfulness in important 
 instances. He speaks of her letters as ' full of en- 
 
 "^ Biographie TJniverselle, vii. 112. Madame Recamier complained 
 of its false statements regarding herself. Souvetms et Correspwidmice 
 itc. i. The book is full of such falsehoods — not accidental inaccuracies, 
 but deliberate falsifications. We may attribute them not only to Las 
 Cases, but to Napoleon himself ; for they abound also in O'Meara's re- 
 cord of St. Helena. See the slanderous example respecting Madame 
 Campan and the Queen Marie Antoinette. Courier says of it, that 
 Napoleon a menti a Madame Campan {Linret de Paul-Louis ; Comier's 
 CEuwes com2ilMes, vol. i. Paris, 1834). Junot's wife (the Duchesse 
 d'AbranteB) corrects many similar misstatements and slanders re- 
 specting herself and her family. See first three volumes of her 
 Memoires, passim.
 
 2o6 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 thusiasm ' and ' extravagances,' ^ when Napoleon was 
 yet only known to her as the ' Conqueror of Italy.' 
 It is not improbable that she might have written 
 enthusiastic letters at this period, when he was 
 still supposed to be loyal to the Eepublic, and when 
 all France was intoxicated with enthusiasm for 
 him ; the question concerns not the style of the 
 letters, but their contents. She never saw him tiU 
 after his return from Italy, and then still trusted 
 him for some time. 
 
 Bourrienne says Napoleon would not answer 
 her letters, but threw them into the fire, and caUed 
 her ' a fool,' ' disgusted to an inexpressible degree ; ' 
 and yet, after his return, they met on the most 
 amicable terms, dined together, and comphmented 
 each other ; and he indisputably endeavoured to 
 conciliate her. 
 
 Bourrienne adds that these sentimental extrava- 
 gances were accompanied by soUcitations for the 
 repayment of the two millions ' beheved still to be 
 due to Necker for his good and loyal services,' but 
 Bonaparte, 'whatever price he might attach to 
 Madame de Stael's approval, could not believe it 
 a duty to pay so dearly for it out of the money 
 of the State.' Now Napoleon well knew, thougli 
 Bourrienne apparently did not, that these millions 
 were not a reward due for ' good and loyal services,' 
 but an actual debt, on account of a loan from Necker : 
 a debt which the government had formally acknow- 
 
 ^ Memoir es^ vi. 217.
 
 XII. yoseph Bonaparte. 207 
 
 leclged, and wliicli the Bourbon government after- 
 wards not only acknowledged, but paid. And fur- 
 ther, what power had Napoleon, at this time, over the 
 money of the State, that it could be a question with 
 him whether he should repay this claim or not ? 
 Bourrienne's allusion to this debt is sufficiently 
 falsified by a statement ^ which Madame de Stael 
 herself made ; and which was afterwards pubhshed 
 while Napoleon's brother, Joseph Bonaparte, whose 
 name it involves, was still living. ' Joseph Bona- 
 parte, whose understanding and conversation I 
 admire,' she writes, ' came to me shortly after the 
 18 Brumaire (November 19, 1799), and said, "My 
 brother complains of you. ' Wliy,' he asked me 
 yesterday, ' why does not Madame de Stael attach 
 herself to ?ny government ? Wliat does she wish ? 
 Is it the payment of her father's deposit ? I will 
 order it. To reside in Paris ? I wiU permit it. In 
 short, what is it she wishes ? ' " My reply was, " It is 
 not what / wish., but what / think." If my answer 
 were reported to him, I am sure he could attach 
 no sense to it. He beheved in the sincerity of the 
 opinions of no one ; he considered morahty, in any 
 case, only a formula. To say that you loved hberty, 
 beheved in God, or preferred your conscience to 
 your interest, meant to him only that you followed 
 usage in disguising the pretensions of your ambition, 
 
 ■* Bourrienne, like Las Cases, was one of the emigres, aud, like him, 
 heartily disliked the friends of the Revolution. For abundant mis- 
 statements, not to say falsifications, in his Memoires, see Mdmoires 
 de la Duchesse cTAbrantes, passim.
 
 2o8 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 or your egotism.' ^ This statement was published 
 nearly a quarter of a century before the death of 
 Joseph, and was never denied by him. With him 
 she maintained, through her hfe, an intimate and 
 even confidential friendship. He was her only 
 protector near the throne ; and the sentiment of 
 gratitude was always intense with her. With his 
 collusion she sometimes ventured over the pro- 
 scribed boundary line of her exile, to visit his family 
 at Morfontaine. She acknowledged to him some- 
 times, with regret, the violence of her language 
 against Napoleon, and never hesitated to express 
 her admiration of his talents. She did not demand 
 the right to attack him pubhcly, and never did so 
 attack him, except in her posthumous historical 
 works. What she asked was, not to be required 
 to sacrifice her hberal sentiments and conscientious 
 convictions, by sanctioning his usurpations, in her 
 pubHcations. When this was denied her, she was 
 still silent before the pubhc, however freely she 
 used her right of private speech. In this guarded 
 manner, and this alone, she ' never,' as we have 
 said, ' compromised her opinions, and always main- 
 tained her intellectual independence.' 
 
 At a time when the new Napoleonic order 
 appeared to be irreversibly established, she was not 
 indisposed to recognise what seemed to be invin- 
 cible fate — especially for the sake of her children, 
 who were doomed to share her persecutions ; but 
 
 ^ Dix Annees, i. 1.
 
 XII. Declines to praise Napoleon. 209 
 
 even then she would not prostitute her pen by 
 pubhcly favouring Napoleon's ambition. When 
 his dynasty was apparently rendered permanent 
 by the birth of the King of Eome, a Prefect of 
 Geneva, his obsequious servant, and sent from 
 Paris to supersede a functionary who was deemed 
 too kind to her, urged her to seize the propitious 
 moment to conciHate the Emperor by writing 
 something which might please him — ' something in 
 the brilliant, enthusiastic style of Corinne.' Her 
 genius, he argued, ' was given for the celebration 
 of such a man ; he was a subject worthy of it.' 'I 
 responded,' she writes, ' that persecuted as I was, 
 all praise from me addressed to him would have 
 the air of a solicitation, and that the Emperor 
 himself could only consider my eulogies ridiculous 
 in such circumstances. He strongly combated 
 this opinion, and came often to pray me, in the 
 name of my interests, to accede to his wishes, were 
 it only to write four pages ; this he assured me 
 would suffice to terminate all my troubles. He 
 made similar declarations to my friends. He 
 entreated me, at last, to write on the birth of the 
 King of Rome. I replied, smihng, that I had no 
 ideas on the subject, and must hmit my coniph- 
 ments to the wish that he might have a good nurse. 
 This pleasantry ended the negotiations of the Pre- 
 fect with me.' ^ 
 
 Nevertheless, that womanly sympathy for the 
 
 " Dix Amices. 
 VOL. I. P
 
 2 1 o Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 sufferings or perils of others, which we have seen 
 in so many instances, was not withheld from her 
 greatest enemy. When he himself was an exile 
 on tlie island of Elba, she learned from a guest at 
 Coppet, that conspirators were about to go thither 
 to assassinate him. Such a secret, it was supposed, 
 could be confided to her, his uncompromising 
 opponent. She saw that it was important he 
 should be forewarned. She made the facts known 
 to Joseph Bonaparte, who resided not far from 
 Coppet, and immediately offered to bear the warn- 
 ing to Napoleon ; as a woman, especially one 
 whom he had persecuted, could do so with the 
 least suspicion from the conspirators or the Govern- 
 ment. Talma, the distinguished actor, was a guest 
 of Joseph at the time, and disputed with her the 
 honour of bearing the warning to Elba. Joseph 
 declined the offers of both, and sent a confidential 
 friend of Napoleon, who had voted against the 
 Empire, and had a passport by which he could 
 reach the island.'' 
 
 "^ Mhnmrefi et Corresjwndance. clu Hoi Joseph, par A. du Casse, 
 tome X. p. 226. Paris, 1863-4. Napoleon's life was saved by this 
 timely intervention of Madame de Stael. One of the conspirators had 
 embarked, but was arrested. M. de Oasse errs in saying the messenger 
 sent was an old servant of the family. He was Boinod d'Aubonne, 
 usually called ' the American,' as he had fought for the colonies in the 
 War of Independence. His probity had procured him also the title of 
 ' the Quaker.' He served in Napoleon's first Italian campaign, and rose 
 to high rank. Though too honest a Kepublican to vote for the Empire, 
 the Emperor left him a legacy of a hundred thousand francs, with the 
 remark, ' He is the most honest man I have known.' Joseph Bona- 
 parte et Madame de Stael, in GauUieur's Etrennes Nationales. 
 Lausanne, 1845.
 
 XII. Pleads for Switzerland. 211 
 
 111 these comments we have somewhat antici- 
 pated important facts of our narrative, but only to 
 render tliem more intelhgible hereafter. 
 
 On his return from Italy in 1797, Napoleon saw 
 clearly the fate of tlie Directory ; but events were 
 not yet sufficiently ripe for his intended usurpation 
 of tlie Government. Some delay and, meantime, 
 some dazzling enterprise, far enough away to sepa- 
 rate him from the comphcations of parties in Paris, 
 till the favourable hour should arrive, were expe- 
 dient. Tlie expedition to Egypt was planned ; but 
 he needed funds for it. The invasion of Switzerland, 
 in order to seize the treasure which the Confedera- 
 tion had long and economically been accumulating 
 at Berne, was proposed. Madame de Stael, inte- 
 rested for Switzerland, not only as tlie land of 
 her family, but as the stronghold of freedom, re- 
 monstrated with him on such a crime against a 
 sister Republic. ' I remained,' she says, ' nearly an 
 hour in conversation witli him. He heard me 
 patiently, because he wished to learn all he could 
 that might enhghten him on his own affairs ; but 
 Demosthenes and Cicero combined could not lead 
 him to the least sacrifice of his personal interest.'^ 
 
 The invasion of Switzerland being certain, she 
 hastened, in January 1798, to join her father at 
 Coppet. ' He was stiU inscribed,' she says, ' on the 
 hst of the emigrants, and a positive law condemned 
 to deatli an emigrant who remained in a country 
 
 * Considerations &c. iii. 27. 
 P 2
 
 2 12 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 occupied by French troops. I did my best to induce 
 liim to flee from his liome, but could not. " At my 
 a<ze," he said, " a man cannot be a wanderer over the 
 earth." I believe his secret motive was his wish 
 not to leave the tomb of my mother. He had, in 
 this respect, a superstition of the heart, for which 
 he could sacrifice not only the interests of his 
 family, but his own.' His wife had lain in the 
 family tomb, which was visible from his window, 
 more than four years, but not a day passed without 
 his "^oino^ to walk and meditate near it. ' To desert 
 his home,' says his daughter, ' would seem to him 
 desertion of her.' ' When the French troops ap- 
 proached, we remained alone with my young chil- 
 dren. On the day appointed for the violation of 
 the Swiss territory, our servants, eager to see the 
 army, hastened from the chateau. My father and 
 I stood on the balcony awaiting our fate, and saw 
 the troops advance. Though it was midwinter, the 
 weather was superb : the Alps were reflected in the 
 lake, and the noise of the drums alone broke the 
 tranquillity of the scene. My heart beat cruelly 
 with fear of the danger which menaced my father. 
 I knew that the Directory had spoken of him 
 with respect, but I knew also the rigour of the 
 Revolutionary laws, especially on those who had 
 helped to make them. At the moment when 
 the army passed the Helvetic frontier I saw 
 an officer leave his corps, and hasten towards 
 the chateau. A mortal fear seized me but his
 
 XII. Invasion of Switzerland. 213 
 
 words reassured me. He was charged, by the 
 Directory, to offer my father a safeguard. This 
 officer, later well known as Marshal Suchet, treated 
 us with the highest consideration, as did also his 
 Etat-Major, introduced by him, the next day, to 
 my father. Though Coppet is thirty leagues from 
 Berne, we afterwards lieard, in the silence of a 
 closing day, the sound of the cannon echoing among 
 the mountains from the first battlefield.' 
 
 The Swiss fought, but were overwhelmed ; the 
 treasure at Berne was seized, stolen ; the freest and 
 bravest commonwealth of Europe was humihated ; 
 and the subhme Quixotism of the Egyptian expedi- 
 tion began. ^ 
 
 ^ The Memoirs of Madame de Remusat have appeared since the 
 completion of my work. I need not say, to any of her readers, that she 
 ■confirms, and more than confirms, all that I have here said, or shall 
 hereafter have to say, against Bonaparte. A member of his Court, 
 she has given us the best account of his intimate life and character 
 yet published. Thiers (as usual when his hero is impugned), hastily 
 repels the motive alleged in the text for the invasion of Switzerland, 
 though he admits that it has been affirmed by a ' host of writers ' 
 besides Madame de Stael. He estimates the treasure of Berne at 
 only eight millions {Hist, de la Rev. tome ix.). The Swiss historians 
 deny his statements {Hist, de la Confederation Suisse, par Miiller, 
 &c., tome iii. 1), and estimate, from official documents, the stolen 
 funds at not less than twenty millions. Jomini (Hist, des Guerres 
 de la Rev. x. 292), admits that the expedition was delayed several 
 weeks for want of money, and estimates the Berne treasure at thirty 
 millions. He had, soon after the invasion, personal and official 
 means of knowing the amomit. The Swiss continuators of Miiller 
 say that the Berne coins were in circulation ou the shores of the 
 Nile for a long time after Napoleon's expedition.
 
 2 1 4 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 LIFE IN PAKIS — BENJAMIIs^ CONSTANT. 
 
 Necker — Madame de Stael's Separation from her Husband — Her 
 Daughter Albertine — Lacretelle —Benjamin Constant — Madame 
 de Oharriere — Madame de Stael's Salon — Constant's Speech 
 against the Government — Its Consequences — Madame de Stael's 
 Avork on Literature — It restores her Social Position in Paris. 
 
 Madame de Stael had hitherto had no serious alter- 
 cation with Napoleon, and could hardly have yet 
 anticipated the relentless persecution which awaited 
 her. During his absence in the East, other matters 
 absorbed her attention. 
 
 By the invasion of Switzerland her father be- 
 came legally a Frenchman. ' He had always been 
 one,' she says, ' in his sentiments and career.' 
 But his name was still on the list of the emigres, 
 and it was necessary that it should be formally 
 erased, in order that he might live with safety in 
 his native country, now occupied by the troops of 
 tlie Directory. ' He committed to me,' she adds, 
 ' a petition, a document of true dignity and logic, 
 with which I hastened to Paris. The Directory, 
 after reading it, was unanimous in his restoration ; 
 and though this act was evidently one of mere
 
 XIII. 
 
 Her Husband. 2 1 5 
 
 justice, it afforded me so much pleasure, that I shall 
 ever be grateful for it. I then treated with the 
 Grovernment for the payment of the two millions 
 which he had left on deposit in the pubhc treasury. 
 It recognised the debt, and offered to pay it in 
 confiscated lands of the clergy. He refused the 
 offer ; not that he agreed with those who con- 
 sidered the sale of these properties illegitimate, but 
 he did not wish to unite his interests with his 
 opinions, and thereby occasion the least doubt of 
 his perfect impartiahty.' ^ 
 
 It was about this time that Madame de Stael's 
 separation from her husband was deemed necessary 
 for the protection of the interests of her children. 
 Their last child (Albertine-Ida-Gustavine, the Du- 
 chesse de Broglie), was born about the beginning 
 of 1797. Their marriage, as we have seen, had 
 been one of convenance^ still customary among 
 the higher classes in France. The Baron, a man 
 of many accomplishments, had one uncontrol- 
 lable vice. ' Their union, though a little cold,' 
 says Madame Necker de Saussure, ' would probably 
 not have been interrupted, if the unforeseen gen- 
 erosity of Baron de Stael had not degenerated 
 into prodigality.' ^ It is said that on the day of his 
 wedding he transferred to his friend. Count Fersen, 
 the whole of his ministerial salary, and that the 
 large dowry of his bride was soon nearly dissipated 
 
 ^ Considerations Sec. iii. 28. 
 
 ^ Xotice SU7- le Curactere et les Ecrits de Madame de Stael.
 
 2 1 6 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 by his reckless habits. He had no capacity for the 
 management of his finances, and ' Madame de Stael 
 was compelled to save the fortune of her children,' 
 by placing it under the protection of her father. 
 The laws of France provided for such an arrange- 
 ment, without the necessity of a divorce. This 
 separation was, however, not only no divorce, it was 
 not of long duration. Learning that the Baron 
 was seriously ill, she hastened from Switzerland 
 to attend him. She attempted to convey him to 
 the shelter of Coppet, but he died at Poligny, on the 
 road thither. May 2, 1802. 
 
 Her young Albertine, her only daughter, was 
 the delight of her life, and it was of her that she 
 uttered the paradoxical phrase, so happily verified, 
 ' I will force her to make a marriage of choice^ 
 alluding no doubt to her own unfortunate marriage- 
 She lavished on this child the affection of her 
 exuberant heart ; she superintended her education 
 witli unremitting care, and saw her at last exalted, 
 by a marriage of affection, to one of the highest 
 positions of French society. 
 
 During these times Madame de Stael was deeply 
 absorbed in the preparation of her elaborate work, 
 on ' Literature considered in its relations to Social 
 Institutions.' It was the subject of her studies at 
 Coppet and of colloquial discussion in its brilliant 
 circle. She spent her summers there, but returned 
 to Paris for the winters. On the 9th of November 
 1799 (the memorable 18th Brumaire), she arrived
 
 XIII. 
 
 The Directory. 217 
 
 in the capital at a moment when a new revohition 
 began to prove that her anticipations of the pohcy 
 of Napoleon were, as she says, ' prophetic' While 
 stopping to change horses, some leagues from the 
 city, she was informed that the Director, Barras, 
 wlio had been her friend in several emergencies, had 
 passed, accompanied by gendarmes, on his way to 
 his estate at Grosbois. The Directory was over- 
 thrown. Napoleon's name was on tlie lips of every- 
 body. He liad been in Paris five weeks, ready for 
 the new revolution which was effectively prepared 
 by his agents during his absence in the East. The 
 legislative bodj^ was transferred to St. Cloud. On 
 tlie day after her arrival his Grenadiers marched 
 through the assembly of the deputies, compelling 
 them to flee through the windows as well as the door- 
 ways. The Consular Government was establislied 
 under an inixenious constitution from the fertile 
 brain of Sieyes. The great soldier, having become 
 ' First Consul,' had no serious difficidty in becom- 
 ing Emperor of France and dominator of Europe. 
 
 Madame de Stael shared in tlie general un- 
 favoural)le opinion of the Directory ; but to her 
 the ambitious policy of Napoleon was a greater 
 evil. Her salon became tlie centre, and she the 
 soul of a conservative republican party — the Cercle 
 Comtitutionnel. The desic^n of the Cercle Constitu- 
 tiojinel was the maintenance of the 'cause of liberty,' 
 by a parhamentary opposition against the new 
 administration, similar to that of the English legis-
 
 2 1 8 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 lature. Lacretelle, the liistorian, speaks strongly of 
 her influence over the statesmen who now met at 
 her house ; and records in extenso a remarkable 
 example of her colloquial eloquence.^ ' I had,' he 
 says, ' for six months the happiness of receiving 
 her encouragement, and, what was not less pre- 
 cious, her inspirations for my political writings. 
 One lived in an atmosphere of enthusiasm, near 
 her ; so thoroughly did her eloquence irradiate 
 the dullest subjects, and animate the most frigid 
 interlocutors. It flashed forth in sallies, in light- 
 nings ; it was impossible successfully to resist her.' 
 A remarkable man, Benjamin Constant, who 
 will often appear in our narrative, was the repre- 
 sentative of the conservative party in the Cercle and 
 in the legislature. The relations between him and 
 Madame de Stael, which are so incessantly alluded 
 to in the publications of the period, began in 1794. 
 During a number of years he had lived in the 
 greatest intimacy with Madame de Charriere, 
 then a literary celebritj^ of Switzerland, authoress 
 of ' Lettres Neuchateloises,' of ' CaHste,' and nume- 
 rous other works. She had met Madame de Stael in 
 her youth, at Paris, in the salons of Thellusson and 
 Necker, and in later years received letters and visits 
 from her at Colombier, near Neuchatel. In their 
 correspondence Madame de Stael commended her 
 writings with characteristic heartiness : a courtesy 
 
 ^ See his Dix Amices cCJ'ypreuces pe7idant la Mcvolution, chap. xi. 
 Paris, 1842.
 
 XIII. Madame de Charrih^e. 219 
 
 which was never reciprocated by Madame Char- 
 riere.* Though the latter possessed genuine talents, 
 and persistently endeavoured to develop Constant's 
 higher capabiHties, her influence upon him was 
 not salutary ; he was excessively morbid and cyn- 
 ical till he came under the more genial power 
 of Madame de Stael.^ Madame de Charriere, like 
 Madame de Genhs, was either from hterary jealousy 
 or from unfavourable rumours, strongly preju- 
 diced against Madame de S ael, and had in- 
 fected Constant's mind with her prejudices ; but 
 he soon corrected them. In September 1794 he 
 wrote : ' A proof that she is not merely a talking 
 machine, is the lively interest she takes in tliose 
 tliat suffer. She has just been successful, after 
 three costly and useless attempts, in saving from 
 prison, and getting out of France, a woman who 
 was her enemy in Paris, and who had displayed 
 her hatred in every possible manner. This is 
 more than talking. I believe that her activity is 
 a necessity as much as a merit : but she employs 
 it in doing good.' Three weeks later he fully 
 comprehends his new friend, and writes to the old 
 one, with enthusiasm : ' Now that I know her better 
 
 ' GauUieur's Etudes sur VHistoire Litteraire de la Suisse Fran^aise, 
 ix. Paris, 1856. 
 
 * Sainte-Beuve notices tlie favourable change, Heinie des Deux 
 Mondes, April 15, 1844. The Hevue Suisse for April 1844 gives some 
 of the letters of Madame de Charriere to Benjamin Constant. In the 
 edition of her Caliste for 1845 (Paris), are given Saiute-Beuve's articles 
 with these letters, and also letters of Madame de Stael to Madame 
 de Charriere.
 
 2 20 Maaame cte Sta'el. ch. 
 
 it is hardly possible for me to restrain my eulogies, 
 and not to give, to all with whom I speak, the 
 proofs of my interest and admiration. I have 
 seldom seen an equal union of qualities so astonish- 
 ing and attractive ; so much brilliancy and ac- 
 curacy ; benevolence so expansive and so refined ; 
 so much generosity ; politeness so sweet and so 
 abundantly bestowed in society ; so much charm, 
 sijnpUcity, abandon, among familiar friends. She 
 is the second woman that I have found who could 
 hold the place of all the universe for me ; who 
 could be all the world to me — she alone. You 
 know who was the first. Madame de Stael has 
 infinitely more spirit in intimate conversation than 
 in society ; she knows perfectly how to listen, 
 as well as to speak ; she enjoys the talents of 
 others, as well as her own ; she makes those whom 
 she loves value themselves by her constant and 
 ingenuous attentions — a proof as much of kind- 
 ness as of sense. In fine, she is a being apart, a 
 superior being, such as is met, perhaps, only once 
 in an age ; such that all who approach her, and know 
 her as a friend, will demand no' greater happiness.' 
 Madame Cliarriere must have been more than 
 woman not to have been piqued by such a triumpli 
 of her rival. Her letters to other correspondents 
 sliow that she felt it bitterly. She criticises 
 Madame de Stael's works (as yet few and unim- 
 portant) with severity, and insists that either 
 Constant had [d)andoncd tlie first principles of
 
 XIII. Benjamin Constant. 221 
 
 taste wliich she had ' nourished and caressed in 
 him to her utmost,' or ' at least he criticises with- 
 out regarding them.' 'In this case,' she adds, 'it is 
 downright and vile slavery — this of Constantinus. 
 In such a liaison., or anj^ liaison whatever, they 
 should mutually control one another, and alterna- 
 tively be the soul one of another.' She had herself 
 been noted for her beauty as well as her talents ;. 
 her successful rival had superseded her without this 
 advantage — a fact hard to bear. ' They met at 
 Lausanne,' she continues, ' and admired one another.. 
 She showed an extreme interest in him, and he has 
 written me his admiration of her. In fact, the 
 rapidity of her mind and her eloquence are remark- 
 able. They make one imagine her beautiful while 
 you see she is ugly — I wish you had seen them.' ^ 
 
 Madame de Stael speaks of him in the highest 
 terms ; he is ' a friend of hberty,' she says, ' and is 
 endowed with the most remarkable intellect that 
 nature has given to any man.' Chateaubriand says, 
 ' he had more esprit than any other man in France 
 since Voltaire.' 
 
 Though a Swiss by birth, this eminent thinker 
 and parhamentary orator had studied at Oxford, 
 at Edinburgh, and in Germany ; had early become 
 intimately allied with Marmontel, La Harpe, and 
 the other litterateurs and philosophes of Paris ; 
 had travelled in Germany, and knew personally 
 Kant, Goethe, Schiller, Wieland. He became 
 
 •^ Gaullieur's Etudes &c. ix.
 
 222 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CH. 
 
 distinguished in autliorsliip by liis reproduction of 
 Scliiller's ' Wallenstein,' by his ' Adolphe,' by able 
 articles in the ' Mercnre,' the ' Minerve,' tlie ' Ee- 
 nommee,' and the ' Courrier,' leading journals of 
 his times ; by his elaborate essay on ' Eehgion 
 considered in its Sources, its Forms, and its De- 
 velopments,' in five volumes ; his posthumous 
 treatise on ' Roman Polytheism considered in its 
 relations to the Greek Philosophy and the Christian 
 Eeligion ' in two volumes octavo, and numerous 
 other works. 
 
 Benjamin Constant was, in spite of the prevail- 
 ing scepticism, and some unfortunate habits, ever 
 addicted to the highest moral contemplations, and 
 profoundly interested in the highest destinies of 
 humanity. His politics were always ' humanita- 
 nan. ' 
 
 But a certain inherent moral weakness rendered 
 him uncertain in his opinions, cynical in liis temper, 
 and bitterly, though brilliantly, sarcastic in his 
 speech. He was to survive most of his comjoeers 
 of these troubled times, and to share in the political 
 vicissitudes of France down to the Eevolution of 
 1830. When his remains were carried, in that 
 year, from the Protestant church in Paris, the 
 patriotic youth of the capital made a ' political de- 
 monstration ' around his coffin, wishing to bear him 
 
 ■^ For au account of bis politics see Laboulaye's Benjamin Constant : 
 Coursde Politique Constitutionnelle,on Collectiondes Ouvrof/es publics sur 
 Gouvernement Itejiresentatif par JBenjamin Constant, &c. 2 vols. Paris, 
 1872.
 
 XIII. Constant's Defence of Her. 223 
 
 to the Pantheon, tliat he niiglit rest among the 
 great men who sleep in its crypt. He was one of 
 the most vigorous minds of his times ; one of the 
 finest talkers in the Parisian salons ; one of tlie 
 greatest athletes in parliamentary debate ; ' of vast 
 intelligence, prodigious resources, acute perception, 
 powerful argumentation, lucid elocution ; bold in 
 address, happy in replies, incisive witli urbanity.'^ 
 His bust, by Bra, in the art gallery of Geneva, 
 wears the lineaments of a careworn, saddened, but 
 superior man. 
 
 For no man, save her father and Mathieu de 
 Montmorencj', did Madame de Stael entertain a 
 warmer admiration than for Benjamin Constant. 
 He left an affecting tribute to her memory. He 
 witnessed her long and cruel exile ; and speaks of 
 her neglect by so many whom she rescued from a 
 similar fate and from death itself, with somethino- 
 like ^vi'athful resentment. ' They have remained,' 
 lie says, ' indifferent spectators of the exile of their 
 l^enefactress, and of the profound sufferings wliicli 
 that exile caused her. I have seen them, in their 
 ardour to justify a despotism that had no need of 
 their servile apologies, accuse its victim of having 
 inspired by lier activity, her spirit, her generous 
 impetuosity, the alarm of the government. Yes, her 
 activity, without doubt, was indefjitigable, her spirit 
 was powerful, she was impetuous against all that 
 was unjust or t3'^rannical. You ought well to know 
 
 ^ Nouvelle Bioyraphie &c.
 
 2 24 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 it, for tliis activity siiccourecl you in your misery, 
 protected you in your perils ; tliis powerful spirit 
 devoted itself to the pleading of your cause ; 
 this impetuosity, which hesitated for no calculation 
 of self-interest, no fear of incurring for itself tlie 
 persecution from which it tried to rescue you, 
 placed itself between you and those who proscribed 
 you. Ungrateful friends ! Miserable courtiers ! you 
 have made criminal in her the virtues by which 
 slie has saved you.' ^ 
 
 The salon of Madame de Stael was soon thronged 
 by the best intellects of Paris ; by men of letters, 
 by foreign diplomatists, by members of the legisla- 
 ture ; even the brothers of Napoleon were among 
 her habitual guests, for Lucien and Joseph were 
 proud of her friendship. The brilhant Sopliie Gay, 
 her literary contemporary, but never her rival, has 
 given the first place to her reunions, in a work on 
 the ' Salons Celebres,' devoting forty pages to her. 
 ' Garat, Andrieux, Daunon, and Constant, inspired 
 by her enthusiasm, endeavoured to save liberty in 
 the legislature. The most eloquent of the Eepublican 
 orators were those who borrowed from her most of 
 their ideas and telling phrases. Most of them 
 went forth from her door with speeches ready for 
 the next day, and with resolution to pronounce 
 them — a courage which was also derived from her.' 
 
 ^ Melanges de LitUrature kc. Ooulmane {Reminiscences, iii. ch. 
 7-15. 3 vols. Paris, 1862) gives an ample sketch of his public life, 
 iucluding a minute account of his conduct at this period, from his own 
 dictation.
 
 XIII. 
 
 Her Salon. 225 
 
 ' Her salon, at this period, was composed not only 
 of the chiefs of the opposition, but one saw there 
 many persons who were attached to the Govern- 
 ment — the brothers of the First Consul, the ministers, 
 &c. Journahsts were there to find news ; Talma 
 and Gerard sought inspiration there ; returned 
 emigres bore there the exquisite pohteness of the 
 ancien regime ; the Duke Mathieu de Montmorency 
 could utter there the religious sentiments which 
 characterised his pure and charitable soul ; the 
 Duke Adrien de Laval could maintain there his 
 fine esprit., the dehcacy and grace of his noble and 
 simple manners ; the Count Louis de Narbonne, the 
 courtly traditions and flatteries which, later, en- 
 deared him so much to Napoleon ; the Chevalier 
 de Boufflers enchanted the company by his piquant 
 recitals, his fine sarcasm, seconded by the brilhant 
 repartees of M. de Chauvehn ; the Count de Sabran 
 gave there proof of that eminent intellect and 
 generous heart by which he afterwards consoled 
 the exile of Madame de Stael. These remnants of 
 the ancien regime mingled there freely with the 
 best minds born of the Eevolution — Ducis, Chenier, 
 Lemercier, Arnaud, Legouve, Talleyrand, Eegnault 
 de Saint Jean d'Angely, Camille Jordan, Andrieux, 
 Constant, &c. Their differences of opinion gave 
 way to the necessity felt for conversation and nuitual 
 sympathy.' ^ 
 
 Madame de Stael saw, however, that a disposi- 
 
 ^ Salons Celebres, par Madame Sophie Gay. Paris, 18.37. 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 2 26 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 tion prevailed, all around her, to yield to the new 
 Government ; or, if not to yield to it, yet not to 
 offend it, for the future seemed at its command. 
 Her own opinions were well known among her 
 intimate friends, but she did not impose them on 
 her guests. Those who shared them formed an 
 interior, an esoteric circle around her. Benjamin 
 Constant, now becoming a notable man, was their 
 chief representative with the public. He con- 
 sulted her on a speech which he proposed to make 
 against the ' rising tyranny.' ' I encouraged him,' 
 she says, ' with all the force of my conscience. 
 Nevertheless, I could not but apprehend unfavour- 
 able consequences to myself. With Montaigne I have 
 always felt that I am French, because I am Parisian. 
 The phantom of ennui has ever pursued me. From 
 the terror which it causes me, I should, perhaps, 
 have been capable of bending before tyranny, if the 
 example of my father, and his blood in my veins, had 
 not sustained me above this feebleness. Bonaparte 
 well knew this predisposition. He quickly dis- 
 cerned the weak side of all about him ; for it 
 was by their defects that he subjected them to his 
 control. He joined to the poAver with which he 
 menaced them, to the treasures that he allowed 
 them to hope for, exemption from ennui — always a 
 terror to the French. A residence at forty leagues 
 from the capital, in contrast witli all the attractions 
 of the most agreeable city of the world, in time 
 enfeebles the wills of most exiles accustomed from
 
 XIII. Constant's Speech. 227 
 
 their infancy to the charms of Parisian life. In the 
 evening before the day on which Constant was to 
 dehver his sj)eech, I had with me Lucien Bona- 
 parte and many others, whose conversation afforded 
 me the interest, always new, which arises from tlie 
 force of ideas and the graces of style. Constant ap- 
 proached me and whispered, " You see your ^^alon 
 crowded with persons who please you ; if I speak to- 
 morrow, it will be deserted. Think again." " It is 
 necessary to follow our convictions," was my reply. 
 The exaltation of my feelings prompted this an- 
 swer ; but I confess that, had I foreseen what I 
 have suffered from that date, I should hardly have 
 had the strength to make it.' 
 
 Constant's apprehensions were well founded. 
 He delivered his speecli, signahsing the incipient 
 despotism of the Government. On the evening of 
 that day a large company was to have assembled at 
 her house ; by five o'clock she received ten letters 
 of excuse. ' I bore the first and second suffi- 
 ciently well,' she says ; ' but in proportion as these 
 notes followed one another I became troubled. 
 Vainly I appealed to my conscience, which iiad 
 counselled me to renounce all the advantao'es of 
 Napoleon's favour ; so many honourable people 
 blamed me, tliat I hardly knew how to maintain 
 my position with firmness.' Bonaparte reproved his 
 l)rother Joseph for attending lier salon., and for 
 some weeks he dared not repeat his visits. His 
 'Example was quickly followed 1)y three-fourths of 
 
 o 2
 
 228 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 her acquaintances. They did not acknowledge 
 that they feared the power and resentment of the 
 First Consul, but ' invented,' she continues, ' each 
 day, some new pretext which could hurt my feel- 
 ings, exercising all the influence of their political 
 opinions against a woman persecuted and without 
 defence, and prostrating themselves at the feet of 
 men who had been the vilest Jacobins from the 
 moment that Napoleon had regenerated them by 
 the baptism of his favour.' One of these, Fouche, 
 minister of police, waited on her, and said that the 
 First Consul suspected she had prompted the speech 
 of Constant. ' Constant,' she replied, ' is too able a 
 man not to have convictions of his own.' Fouche 
 acknowledged this, but assured her that Napoleon 
 was irritated by the opposition, and she was im- 
 plicated in it. ' He counselled me,' she says, ' to 
 retire into the country, and in a few days all would 
 " pass over." But on my return, I found it quite 
 the reverse.' ^ 
 
 She knew, however, that an invincible power 
 remained in her otherwise feeble woman's hand — 
 the pen. Without using it against Napoleon, she 
 resolved to vindicate by it her claims to social and 
 public recognition. In these days of desertion, and 
 of the worst chagrins that a woman can suffer, she 
 completed her Essay on Literature, disdaining, 
 however, to insert in it a single word which might 
 conciHate her persecutor. 
 
 - Compare the Considh-ations &c. iv. with Dix A^inees, i.
 
 XIII. Essay on Literahcre. 229 
 
 It produced an immediate and surprising im- 
 l^ression, for, whatever defects the critics find in 
 it, no woman had ever attempted so elaborate a 
 literary work, and the traits of her genius are 
 obvious in every chapter. ' Its success,' she writes, 
 ' entirely restored my position in society ; my 
 salon was again filled, and I recovered that most 
 exquisite pleasure of my life, — the pleasure of con- 
 versing in Paris.'
 
 230 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HER WORK ON LITERATURE. 
 
 Its Scope — The Perfectibility of Man — Contemporary Criticism on the 
 Book — Fontanes — Chateaubriand — Christianity — What she meant 
 by Perfectibility — Vico's Theory — Noble Thoughts. 
 
 Her work on Literature was published in 1800, 
 and reissued in the ensuing year.^ The plan and 
 scope of this treatise are bold and comprehensive. 
 Its first part presents an analysis, ' moral and philo- 
 sophic,' of Greek and Latin literature, with reflec- 
 tions on the consequences, ' to the human mind,' of 
 the invasions of the Northern peoples, of the esta- 
 blishment of Christianity, and of the revival of let- 
 ters ; and a rapid review of modern hterature, with 
 detailed observations on the chief works of the 
 Italian, English, German, and French languages, 
 considered in reference to the general idea of the 
 essay : that is to say, the relation of the social and 
 political conditions of a country to the dominant 
 spirit of its literature. The extent of research, 
 the acuteness of criticism, the subtlety of specula- 
 tion, displayed in this part would be remarkable in 
 
 ' De la Litteratnre eonsidcree dans ses Rapjiorts avec les Institutions 
 Sociales. 2 vols. Paris, 1800.
 
 XIV. Human Perfectibility. 231 
 
 any writer of the times : in the writings of a woman, 
 they were a marvel to Europe. The second part 
 discusses the state of intelligence and literature in 
 France since the Eevolution, and, inquiring what 
 they would be if France should possess the morality 
 essential to Eepublicanism, it shows her actual 
 degradation, and her possible amelioration as dedu- 
 cible from the examples treated in tlie first part. 
 
 The doctrine, or hypothesis, of the treatise is 
 the perfectibility of the human race. ' I adopt 
 with all my faculties,' she says, ' this philosophic 
 belief. It is the conservative, the redeeming liope 
 of the intellectual world ; it imparts a grand eleva- 
 tion to the soul — its highest consolation. Before 
 it, the actual baseness of men, the vileness of their 
 ordinary calculations, disappear from our view. 
 The future of truth, the future of virtue, the 
 future of glory, inspire us with new force. The 
 doctrine lifts the weight of life, and gladdens all 
 our moral being with the happiness and nobleness 
 of virtue. It is not a vain theory : we are con- 
 ducted to it by the observation of facts.' 
 
 The learning, the brilliant passages of thought, 
 the vigorous style of the treatise, can liardly be 
 questioned ; but its hypothesis of the perfectibihty 
 of the race was contested in France at least. In 
 Germany it was eagerly approved, for it agreed 
 with the prepossessions of German thinkers.^ M. 
 
 '-* For the latest expression of German opinion on the subject, see 
 Dr. E. Pfieiderer's Die Idee eines Ooldenen Zeitalters, Berlin, 1877 ;
 
 232 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 de Fontanes immediately attacked it in the ' Mer- 
 cure de France ' (1800).^ Madame de Stael replied 
 to him in her second edition (1801). Chateau- 
 briand, the intimate friend of Fontanes, addressed 
 to him a long and rhetorical letter, endorsing some 
 of his criticisms, and rejecting others.* Fontanes 
 had admitted the progressiveness of the physical 
 and mathematical, but not of the moral and po- 
 htical sciences. ' The spirit of the human race,' 
 he affirmed, ' resembles that of the individual man ; 
 it shines and is eclipsed by turns.' Chateaubriand 
 admits, ambiguously, the doctrine of Madame de 
 Stael. ' She gives,' he says, ' to philosophy what I 
 attribute to religion.' 
 
 But Madame de Stael would not exclude re- 
 hgion from philosophy, whatever quahfications 
 she might attach to the influence of given forms 
 of rehgion. The intellectual enlightenment and 
 emancipation of the world were to her the com- 
 prehensive condition of the perfectibihty of man ; 
 religion, of course, must be an element in such 
 a condition. Philosophy was her name for its 
 rationale. For intelligence must be its basis — the 
 knowledge of truth, of any and every kind of 
 truth. She would have no compromise here. 
 
 and Dr. R. Rocholl's Die Philosophie der Gcschichte. Gottingen, 1878. 
 The latter lias been ' crowned ' by the Faculty of Philosophy at 
 Gottingen. 
 
 ' Fontanes' two articles (brilliantly written, and full of learning) 
 are given in his collected (Euvres, ii. Paris, 1839. 
 
 * Chateaubriand's (Euvres completes, iv. Paris, 1827.
 
 XIV. Defence of Truth. 233 
 
 With Lessing, as she later says, in the ' AUemagne,' 
 she ceased not to attack, with all the force of lier 
 logic, ' that maxim, so commonly repeated, that 
 there are some truths which are dangerous. It is an 
 extreme presumption, in some individuals, to 
 believe •. that they have the right to conceal the 
 truth from their species, and claim for themselves 
 the prerogative of placing themselves, as Alexander 
 before Diogenes, in such manner as to intercept the 
 rays of the sun, which belong to all equally. This 
 pretended prudence is only a theory of charlatan- 
 ism. It would juggle with ideas, the better to 
 serve mankind ! The truth is the work of God, 
 falsehoods are the work of man. If we study those 
 epochs of history in which the truth has been feared, 
 we shall always find that they were periods in 
 which individual interests warred, in some manner, 
 against the universal tendency. Search for the 
 truth is the noblest occupation of man ; its publica- 
 tion a duty. There is nothing to fear, for rehgion 
 or for society, in this pursuit, if it is sincere ; and 
 if it is not, it is then no longer the truth ; it is 
 mischievous falsehood. There is not a sentiment 
 in man, the philosophic reason of which cannot be 
 discovered ; not an opinion, not even a prejudice 
 generally spread, which has not its root in nature. 
 It is necessary, therefore, to examine, not wdth the 
 object of destroying behef, but of founding it on in- 
 timate conviction, and not on fallacious conviction. 
 There is a pre-establislied harmony between truth
 
 234 Madame dc Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 and liiiman reason Avliich tends always to bring 
 them together.' 
 
 She distinguishes ' admirably,' says Villemain, 
 ' the great social differences between the spirit of 
 antiquity and the modern spirit. She sees them, 
 conceives them by a sort of intuition ; she has 
 above all understood, and expresses with a grand 
 superiority, the character of the reform introduced 
 by Christianity into the midst of the ancient world.' ^ 
 Chateaubriand, reviewing, in 1826, his earlier 
 opinions, ' became,' says Sainte-Beuve, ' liberal, and 
 as much as Madame de Stael a partisan of Perfec- 
 tibility. He assigned to the march of humanity a 
 series of concentric circles, which enlarge, without 
 ceasing, into infinite space.' At the Eestoration, 
 Madame de Stael celebrated with festive songs and 
 wit, at a dinner in her house in the Eue Eoyale, 
 her reconciliation with Fontanes and Chateaubriand, 
 who, with Pasquier, Madame de Vintimille, Lally- 
 Tollendal, and others, formed tliere a ' perpetual 
 friendship.' Her book was pubhshed the year 
 before Chateaubriand's ' Genius of Christianity ' 
 appeared. The latter, says Vinet, has ' led us a 
 little to forget the sensation produced by the 
 former ; it was, nevertheless, vivid and universal. 
 The work would make a sensation were it to 
 appear for the first time to-day, if only by its 
 literary beauties. But appearing immediately 
 after the 18th Brumaire, we can imamne wliat 
 
 ^ CoiivB dc LitUratxKre Fnmqaue^ iv. Parisj 1873.
 
 XIV. 
 
 Ch I'istianity. 235 
 
 a passionate tumult must have been excited by 
 the propositions that Hterature has relations most 
 intimate and most essential to pubUc virtue, 
 hberty, glory, and felicity; that a law of pro- 
 gression is imposed on human destiny, raising 
 the level of manners and of hterature from epoch 
 to epoch ; that this progression is indefinite, and 
 advances with the growth of institutions : that is 
 to say, Avith the tendency to republican govern- 
 ment and republican manners, and will have for 
 its distinctive character the triumph of the serious 
 spirit of the North over the frivolous spirit of the 
 South.' 6 
 
 This greatest of Swiss thinkers criticises freely 
 the defects of the work, especially its failure, as he 
 thinks, to appreciate the relation of Christianity to 
 its hypothesis, though she ' enumerates loyally,' he 
 admits, ' the benefits of rehgion.' Vinet's objection 
 is liardly relevant ; her treatment of Christianity'^ 
 ought to satisfy the Christian critic. She not only 
 enumerates ' loyally the benefits ' of Christianity, but 
 vindicates it against the sceptical criticism of the 
 day, and shows it to have been essential to the 
 progress of civilisation. Christianity was not, how- 
 ever, with her, any dogmatic formula of Eome, 
 of Wittenburg, of Geneva, or of Oxford. Vinet 
 exliorts his readers to respect her faith. 'At the 
 
 ^ Vinet's Etudes sur la Littendure Franqciise cm XIX" Steele, i. 
 Paris, 1857. 
 
 ^ De la Litter ature &c. i. 8.
 
 236 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 foundation it is yours,' lie says : ' you believe in 
 perfectibility if you believe in revelation.' 
 
 The severest criticism on these volumes deals 
 with minor defects which might have been avoided 
 by the author without impairing her argument. 
 She seems to assume that Republican government 
 is an essential condition of the perfectibility of man ; 
 she means Constitutional government, based upon 
 the common interests of the people, recognising the 
 co-ordinate rights of the governed and the govern- 
 ing ; for we know that she approved the quahfied 
 monarchy of England. 
 
 She ehminates from her argument works of 
 the imagination ; for the superiority of the classic 
 monuments of art and literature seemed for- 
 midable to her theory. The maximum advance- 
 ment of special departments of culture may, how- 
 ever, be attained in a given age, and the race may 
 still advance in other directions. The Romans 
 could not surpass the Greeks in Art, but they went 
 forward in their own direction, that of government 
 and jurisprudence (supreme in the interests of the 
 world), and modern civilisation borrows from both 
 Greece and Rome. 
 
 Her generahsations were not sufficiently large ; 
 her perspective not sufficiently extended ; she was 
 too anxious to account for, or rather to explain 
 away, apparent contradictions of her theory, — the 
 decline of Greek art under the Romans ; the 
 decline of Rome itself; the decline of Europe,
 
 XIV. 
 
 Progress. 237 
 
 generally, for a thousand years (which, she ac- 
 knowledges, presents an apparent difficulty to her 
 logic), the retrogression of some important modern 
 nations, &c. 
 
 But a great current may have its backward 
 eddies : these must not be mistaken for the current 
 itself; or, if the whole current seems at times to 
 be arrested, and dammed up, its accumulated force 
 may at last burst its obstructions, and sweep 
 onward the more swiftly. Humanity always ad- 
 vances, says Goethe, but in a spiral line. The 
 media3val centuries, in which northern barbarism 
 alone seemed to prevail, resulted in the civihsation 
 of the North, and the development at last of that 
 mighty Teutonic energy which has since been reno- 
 vating the world. 
 
 The European invention of the mariner's com- 
 pass, without apparently borrowing it from China ; 
 the discovery of America ; the Eenaissance in art 
 and letters ; the invention of printing ; the Ee- 
 formation ; the outspread of colonisation ; the 
 subsequent birth of so many great ideas (still more 
 potential than potent) such as popular government, 
 popular education, religious toleration, freedom of 
 speech, freedom of the press, freedom of trade, — 
 the progress of the natural sciences, the introduc- 
 tion of the steam-engine, the steamboat, the rail- 
 road, the telegraph, the spectroscope, the telephone, 
 and many more improvements, which are changing 
 the face of the world — all prove the law of human
 
 238 Madame de Stnel. ch. 
 
 progress, notwithstanding any temporary or local 
 retrogressions. All are the results of advancing 
 intelligence ; and literature is the symbol, the 
 exponent of intelligence. 
 
 The Greek architecture may be perfect in its 
 kind, and may never, therefore, be surpassed ; 
 but the Gothic may also be perfect in its kind. 
 Which is preferable, is not the question. The world 
 has both : is the world richer with both than it 
 would be with one, is the only question. Does the 
 world grow richer, from age to age, in ideas, in 
 truths ? 
 
 Her critics were captious and played on words. 
 Had she been more precise in her definitions, 
 she would have forestalled them. In a note to 
 her new preface, in the second edition, she de- 
 fines more completely her theory of Perfectibility, 
 not as a definite and final perfection, but a law 
 of progression, tending towards perfection. ' This 
 system,' she remarks, ' has given origin to so many 
 absurdities, that I am obhged to indicate exactly 
 the sense that I give it, in my work. First, in 
 speaking of the perfectibility of the human mind, 
 I do not pretend to say that the moderns have 
 o-reater intellectual fiiculties than the ancients ; but 
 only that the mass of ideas, in every department, 
 augments with the ages. Secondly, in speaking of 
 the perfectibility of the human species, I do not 
 allude to the dreams of some thinkers respecting 
 an improbable future ; but to the successive pro-
 
 XIV. 
 
 Perfectibility, 239 
 
 gress of civilisation in all classes and in all coun- 
 tries.' 
 
 ■ She propounded, then, a sublime truth : she 
 failed at many points, in its treatment; yet few 
 hands, perhaps no feminine one, could have treated 
 it better in her day. She applied to philosophy 
 and literature substantially the same grand but 
 still disputed generalisation which her great coun- 
 •trymen, Lamarck and La Place, afterwards applied, 
 the one to natural liistory, the other to cosmical 
 science,^ and which a majority of the naturalists of 
 our day apply to biological science generally. 
 
 For more than half a century before the publi- 
 cation of her treatise, eminent thinkers had affirmed 
 the doctrine of Perfectibility — Ferguson in England, 
 Kant in Germany, Turgot in France. Condorcet, at 
 a time when he might well despair of the Eepublic, 
 and when he himself was under its proscription, still 
 argued for the perfectibility of tlie human race. 
 It Avas one of the intuitions of the greatest genius 
 of the middle ages, Eoger Bacon. ' The high law 
 of tlie sciences, of man — Lidefinite Perfectibihty — is 
 read in the Opus Majus, five hundred years before 
 Condorcet.'^ More than three quarters of a cen- 
 tury before Madame de Stael's treatise, the Italian 
 philosopher, Vico, had created the ' Philosophy of 
 
 * Lamarck's PhilosojyJiie Zoolo(jique appeared nearly twenty years 
 later (1819) ; the last part of La Place's Mecanique Celeste was pub- 
 lished in 1825. 
 
 ^ Micbelet, Hist, de France {' La Renaissance/ lutrod.), vol. vii. 
 Paris, 1867.
 
 240 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 History ' (in his ' New Science ' and in his ' Uni- 
 versal Law,' ^) ; but tliough he asserted the leading- 
 principle of her theory, namely, that history is 
 subject to law, yet his conclusions fall infinitely 
 short of her sublime humanitarianism. He begins 
 in barbarism and ends in the consolidation and 
 forced order of monarchy ; she begins in barbarism 
 and ends in hberty — in the rej)resentative, not to say 
 Eepublican, self-government of the race, under the 
 reign of universal enhghtenment. His doctrine of 
 the Ricorsi imphes ever-recurring cycles of growth 
 and decay; she rejects the supposition of necessary 
 decay. She justly claims to be the first to apply 
 the hypothesis of perfectibihty to literature.^ Sir 
 James Mackintosh, writing in 1813, says : ' The 
 philosophy of hterature is one of the most recently 
 opened fields of speculation ; a few fragments of 
 it are among the most beautiful parts of Hume's 
 Essays. The great work of Madame de Stael, on 
 Literature, was the first attempt on a bold and 
 extensive scale. In the neighbourhood of her late 
 residence, and perhaps not uninfluenced by her 
 spirit, two writers of great merit, Sismondi in his 
 " History of the Literature of the South," and 
 Bar ante in his essay on " French Literature during 
 the Eighteenth Century," have treated various parts 
 
 '■ His Nuova Scienzn first appeared in 1722. His De Universi 
 Juris Sec. still earlier, in 1720. 
 
 ^ See note to her preface iu the second edition, GLuvres completes, 
 tome iv. p. 17. Paris, 1820.
 
 XIV. 
 
 Criticism. 241 
 
 of this wide subject.' ^ It will hereafter be seen that 
 Sismondi and Barante were under her tutelage at 
 Coppet. 
 
 An able French thinker of our day has shown 
 how, almost universally, the new theory has aifected 
 French hterature, especially the French historians : 
 ' The phrase of Charles Nodier, attributed to 
 Madame de Stitel, has, by the studies of aesthetic 
 critics, become the formula of this method, " Litera- 
 ture is the expression of society." Works of art 
 and of hterature are no longer considered as pro- 
 ducts of free, individual minds alone, as Plato, 
 Aristotle, Horace, and Quintilian taught ; but 
 modern criticism sees in them the genius of the 
 race, of the epoch. Thus has the criticism of 
 antiquity been revolutionised, and literary history 
 has become a science.' ^ 
 
 ' Many opinions,' says Madame Necker de Saus- 
 sure, ' which have since been subjects of discussion 
 among critics, were propounded for the first time 
 in this book. We find in it the origin of nearly all 
 we have since read on its hypothesis, and later 
 writers have evidently used it much more than they 
 have cited it. One cannot but be singularly struck 
 by its intellectual amplitude.' It shows that she 
 was famihar with all the standard works of ancient 
 and modern literature ; but her use of them is not 
 in the mere details which dilioent research in a 
 
 ^ Edinburgh Review, Oct. 1813. 
 
 * Vacherot's La Science et la Conscience, iii. Paris, 1872. 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 well-stored library might afford, but in philosophic 
 and profoundly meditated generaUsations. 
 
 ' Its style,' says Palisot, ' if we except here and 
 there an obscure passage, is always proportioned to 
 the grandeur of its subject. This is an observation 
 which continually forces itself upon us in reading 
 it. JNTo work of the kind is richer in single great 
 thoughts.'^ 'Env}^ and revenge,' says Pougens, 
 ' prompted the criticism which was hostile to the 
 book. But posterity will avenge its author.' ^ 
 Wliether the critical reader accepts or rejects her 
 theory, he cannot but wonder at the variety of 
 learning and tlie virility of mind which the work 
 displays ; he will search in vain for any equal ex- 
 ample among all the literary productions of women. 
 Should he even deem that, as a whole, it has now 
 little value, still there is hardly a page of it which 
 he will not pronounce invaluable for its brilhant or 
 profound individual thoughts. Her ' AUemagne.' 
 though much better known, shows not richer or more 
 vigorous faculties. Every page reminds us of lier 
 early studies of Montesquieu. Villemain accredits 
 her as the first of French critics who appreciated 
 Shakespeare. Voltaire's prejudiced opinions of the 
 English dramatist had been canonical, in France, 
 down to the publication of her treatise. She was 
 the first of great French writers who struck an 
 effectual blow against the mechanical rigour with 
 
 ' Querard's La France LitUraire, ix. Paris, 1838. 
 
 ^ BibliotMqxie Franqnise. Nos. G, 8 aud 10. Paris, 1801.
 
 XIV. Theories of Literattu^e. 243 
 
 wliirli the genius of ]]er country had been shackled 
 by the classical ' unities,' and thereby opened the 
 way for the Romantic school of writers. Her cri- 
 tical views of taste are especially profound and 
 noble ; to her, taste is tlie morale of literature. 
 ' All that theory of taste,' says Villemain, ' which 
 continually connects the study of letters with the 
 dignity of the human soul, she expounds admir- 
 ably. This is the great innovation which she bore 
 into criticism ; it is the noble originality of her 
 treatise.' 
 
 Sainte-Beuve, admirable critic as he is, is not a 
 good theoriser. He remarks that the theory of 
 literature which Madame de Stael proposes, in this 
 work, ' was already struck at the heart, l)y tlie 
 prostration of the institutions which alone could 
 favour and guarantee it.' She is rich, he admits, 
 ' in ideas ; much richer than Chateaubriand ; but 
 could not vivify her tlieory.' '^ Eepublicanism 
 was dying in France : how then could a literature, 
 foimded in Republican conditions, live .^ The only 
 just question is : Has she correctly defined tlie 
 influence of Republican institutions, or rather of 
 popular liberty, on literature? If so, then her 
 theory is as secure as liberty itself Sainte-Beuve 
 did not perceive that, though the Revolution was 
 passing away, yet the spirit of liberty wliich it had 
 evoked was inextinguishable, and would reassert 
 itself in spite of any political reactions. Had lie 
 
 ^ Chateauhriand et son Groupe, i. 1. 
 K 2
 
 244 Madame dc Stacl. ch. 
 
 survived to our day, he would have seen the Re- 
 pubhc again erect in France, with better possibiHties 
 tlum ever for the theory of Madame de Stael. All 
 ^ects or schools in literature, as in philosophy and 
 theology, are, however, precarious ; they at best 
 afford but tlie germs of something better. The 
 Romantic and the Classic schools are, for example, 
 in contrast, but need not be in opposition ; they 
 may complement one another. Madame de Stael's 
 theory of the literature of freedom is but one 
 phase of the broader rationale of all literature, 
 of all intellectual progress. 
 
 Though this book restored her social status in 
 Paris, and, as she says, gathered Europe again 
 around her, in the persons of its diplomatic repre- 
 sentatives, it could only delay the resentment of 
 Bonaparte. She had written in favour of Repub- 
 licanism. The Republic still survived, nominally at 
 least, under the First Consul ; but it was not accor- 
 dant with his designs that it shoidd long survive. 
 Villemain, familiar with the hterary traditions of 
 the times, and judging from the ' anecdotal and 
 political point of view,' supposes that particular 
 passages of the book offended Bonaparte — passages 
 too noble for his express condemnation. In one of 
 them she says : ' Behind Alexander still rises the 
 shadow of Greece. It is necessary for the renown, 
 even of illustrious warriors, that the countries 
 which they subdue should be enriched with the 
 gifts of the human mind. I know not but that the
 
 XIV. High TJioughts. 245 
 
 power of thought will some day extinguish the 
 plague of war, but, before that day, it is this power, 
 it is eloquence and imagination, it is philosopliy, 
 which must dignify the importance of military 
 achievements. If you allow all nobleness to become 
 effaced or degraded, force can dominate society, 
 but no true glory can environ it. Men will be a 
 thousand times more degraded by the loss of intel- 
 lectual emulation than even by the jealous passions 
 with which the pursuit of mihtary glory may in- 
 furiate them.' - Again : ' It is not true that a great 
 man has more renown by being celebrated alone — 
 without being surrounded by famous personages 
 who cede to him the pre-eminence. It has been 
 said, in politics, that a king cannot exist without 
 nobles, without an aristocracy. In the court of 
 public opinion it is also necessary that the supre- 
 macy of rank shall be guaranteed by gradations of 
 rank. Of what importance is it that a Conqueror 
 opposes barbarians to barbarians in the night of 
 ignorance ? Cassar is famous in history because he 
 decided the destiny of Eome, and that in Eome were 
 Cicero, Sallust, Cato, &c.' 
 
 If Bonaparte was intellectually capable of ap- 
 preciating such thoughts, he was, nevertheless, mo- 
 rally incapable of appreciating the moral attitude 
 of the writer — the sublime integrity of her soul, 
 maintained throughout the book. In its last and 
 most eloquent chapter is a passage, worthy to Uve 
 for ever, in which, after acknowledging the suscep-
 
 246 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 tibility of her temperament to the fears, the dangers 
 which then beset independent thinkers, she says, 
 ' But this feebleness of the heart ought never to 
 affect our judgment of general ideas. To what- 
 ever suffering the expression of such ideas can 
 expose us, it is necessary to brave it. We can de- 
 velop usefully only the principles of which we are 
 intimately convinced. Opinions that you would 
 sustain against your own convictions, you can never 
 profoundly analyse nor effectively express. The 
 more the mind is true to nature, the more it is in- 
 capable of retaining any force, if the support of 
 conviction fail it. We should, then, free ourselves, 
 if possible, from the fears which can disturb the 
 independence of our meditations ; we should confide 
 our life to the supports of the moral world, our 
 ha])piness to those whom we love, our opinions to 
 time, the faithful ally of conscience and truth.' 
 
 Napoleon saw that, in one way or another, he 
 must check the influence of this foiinidable woman. 
 He waited and watched for his opportunity.
 
 XV. 
 
 De Gdrando. 247 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 DE GERANDO, THE PHILOSOPHER MADAME DE 
 
 KRtJDNER, THE MYSTIC. 
 
 Her Relations with De Gerando — Annette de Gerando — Spiritualism 
 — Madame de Kriidner — Letter from De Gerando — Her Salon in 
 Paris — Necker's 'Last Views ' — Napoleon's Resentment — Conver- 
 sation with Lacretelle — Kant — Return to Paris. 
 
 Soon after her return to Coppet for the summer, 
 she was cheered by an article in a Paris journal, 
 favourable to her book, which she recognised as 
 from the hand of one of the greatest thinkers and 
 best men of the age — her friend De Gerando, the 
 philosopher and philanthropist. He was now ra- 
 pidly rising in pubhc consideration, and became 
 her Hfelong correspondent. He had barely escaped 
 death in the horrors of the Eevolution ; he shared 
 the exile of his and her friend, Camille Jordan ; 
 and, later, served in the armies of the RepubHc. 
 Prompted by rare native genius, he pondered, in 
 camps and barracks, the profoundest problems of 
 humanity. While yet in military hfe, at a distance 
 from Paris, he competed for a prize offered by the 
 Institute, and surpassed all his rivals by his work 
 on ' The Signs and Art of Thinking, in their Mutual
 
 248 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 Eelations,' which was published in the same year in 
 which appeared Madame de Stael's essay on Litera- 
 ture. It was the first of four or five of his pro- 
 ductions which were ' crowned ' by the Institute, or 
 the Academies of Lyons and Berhn, and the germ 
 of those greater works which made him conspicu- 
 ous among contemporary thinkers, on ' The Origin 
 of Human IntelHgence,' the ' Comparative History 
 of Philosophic Systems,' &c. His moral quahties 
 were as great as his intellectual faculties. Ma- 
 dame de Stael remarked that ' his thoughts always 
 followed his sentiments, and he could write only 
 for the practical good of his race.' His sympathy 
 with her hopeful views of humanity and with her 
 ' spiritualistic ' philosophy drew him towards her ; 
 for though he received Locke's doctrine of the 
 origin of ideas, yet, like Locke himself, he could 
 reconcile it with the purest spiritualism and the 
 highest ethics. 
 
 The success of his first essay produced a sensa- 
 tion in the literary circles of Paris. He was called 
 from the army to the capital, and Madame de Stael, 
 by letters to Lucien Bonaparte, then high in ofiice, 
 procured him an appointment under the Govern- 
 ment, by which he could live with sufficient leisure 
 for his favourite studies. He occupied, for some 
 time, Necker's villa at St. Ouen, and letters, ardent 
 with sentiment and on the loftiest themes, constantly 
 passed between the old home, near the capital, and 
 the chateau on Lake Leman. A greater charm
 
 XV. 
 
 spiritualism. 249 
 
 than that of the genius of the philosopher attracted 
 the interest of the authoress to the old home. Her 
 highest ideal of woman's happiness was ' love in 
 marriage,' and she found one of its most beautiful ex- 
 emplifications now in St. Ouen. The philosopher's 
 wife, Annette de Gerando (the 'sweet Annette,' 
 as Madame de Stael called her), was a woman of 
 perfect virtue and cultivated mind, but she aspired 
 to no exterior distinction for herself. Her aspira- 
 tions were identified with those of her husband ; 
 she was content to be the priestess of his home 
 and to encourage there, in retirement, his great 
 aims. The beautiful Juliette Eecamier found in 
 her a consfenial friend for her own good heart. In 
 a time of affliction she wrote to her : ' Dear Annette, 
 I have need of consolation ; my heart is lacerated. 
 How I regret to be so far from you — you who are 
 so good, and know so well how to understand all 
 the sufferings of the soul. All that you say in 
 your letters makes a profound impression on me 
 and on Madame de Stael. Dear Annette, you 
 take so much pains to do good ! Your life appears 
 to me the most touching example of all the virtues. 
 It is my happiness to think that I am loved by such 
 a being as you. I am very sad ; I have need of 
 passing some moments with you, to speak of my 
 inmost feelings. You are the woman whom I wish 
 to resemble, yet it seems to me that if I had all 
 your qualities I should be tempted to be vain. 
 Adieu ! I love you.' ' You know well,' wrote
 
 250 Madame ae Sta'el. 
 
 CH. 
 
 Madame de Statil to De Gerando, ' that in the home 
 of Annette you have a centre of tender sentiments 
 and elevated ideas, to be found in no other place.' 
 She esteemed her one of the best critics of her 
 works : ' I recognise her,' she writes, ' as the judge of 
 vivid and delicate sentiments in whatever situations ■ 
 I can place them.' All that was attractive in the 
 man was reflected and enhanced by his charm- 
 ing wife, to the eyes of Madame de Stael and her 
 circle. 
 
 The noble character and great abilities of De 
 Gerando raised him to high public positions, and 
 retained him in them, through all pohtical clianges, 
 down to his death in 1842. He became Secre- 
 tary of the ]\iinistry. Administrator in Tuscany, 
 in the Eoman States and Catalonia, a Councillor 
 of State, a Baron of the Empire, and a Peer of 
 France. His Napoleonism never seriously afi'ected 
 liis relations with Madame de Stael, though she 
 sometimes thought that he was unnecessarily cau- 
 tious against compromising himself with Na23oleon 
 in her behalf. Differing in pohtics, the affinit}^ of 
 their souls, in the higher sphere of philosophy and 
 letters, maintained their friendship tranquil above 
 the storms of public opinion which raged around 
 them. Lacretelle, tlie historian, as we shall here- 
 after see, recognised Madame de Stael as the leader 
 of the reaction against the materialistic philosophy 
 whicli the Eevolution had spread over France ; De 
 Gerando became one of the principal characters in
 
 XV. 
 
 Napoleon. 251 
 
 the circle of illustrious men who soon gathered 
 around her in this reaction — Sismondi, Chateau- 
 briand, Constant, Camille Jordan, Mathieu Montmo- 
 rency, and a host of others. Most of them attached 
 little importance to theological dogmas ; some of 
 them were far from being morally scrupulous in 
 their lives ; it was chiefly in behalf of the intellec- 
 tual world — of philosophy and hterature — that they 
 waged this war of reaction, though the better minds 
 among them saw that the social and political wel- 
 fare of the race was involved in the issue. They 
 agreed with De Gerando, wdio, at the publication of 
 a materiahstic work by Cabanis, wrote to Madame 
 de Stael : ' Camille Jordan and I are thoroughly 
 discontented with the book of Cabanis. It is a 
 discredit to Philosophy, thus to make it considered 
 the enemy of all consohng ideas. No ! Men who 
 believe only in fate and materiahsm cannot be 
 sincere friends to liberty. We can agree with 
 Cabanis in but one thing — in the good he says of 
 you. I hope you will always share our indignation 
 against the disastrous influence of his book. Thus 
 to reduce all things to brute master, is it not merely 
 to invite us to mould ourselves to any character we 
 may wish ? ' 
 
 The friendship of sucli a man was precious to 
 the authoress, and his good opinion of her book was 
 its most flattering commendation. ' I recognise your 
 hand,' slie wrote him, ' I can always recognise you. 
 Here I am at the foot of those mountains which
 
 252 Madame de Sta'e I. ch. 
 
 you envy me. I find my father quite well, and eager 
 to read your book ; my eldest son already a brave 
 little man, though but ten years old ; my young 
 daughter very graceful. Is my villa still agree- 
 able ? My thoughts rest there, as I know you are 
 there ; enjoy it as much as you can. Give us news : 
 solitaires like us live on facts. My father and I are 
 not in love with the country, like you ; we long for 
 anecdotes even in tlie presence of Mont Blanc. 
 Talk witli Annette of me ; never cease to love me.' 
 He wrote her respecting the criticisms on her 
 book : ' It is in some respects a sad profession, that 
 of the man of letters ; he must brave the disdain of 
 those who are not of it, and the jealousy of tliose 
 who are. The first are irritated if they have not his 
 talent ; the second, if his manner differs from theirs. 
 Only one thing can console you : it is the desire of 
 doing good ; and I believe that, when this intention 
 exists in all its purity, it renders one nearly imper- 
 vious to contradictions. Form around you a circle 
 in which friends shall be faithful, enemies generous, 
 and all sincere ; where you can live in security ; 
 where the accord of liearts shall produce harmony 
 of minds ; where philosophy shall be without 
 scepticism, religion without intolerance, wit without 
 causticity, learning witliout pedantry. You will 
 still rediscover yourself, in this society ; but you 
 will discover yourself there honoured, cherished, 
 surrounded by true friends. I beg for a place 
 there, among those who are the most devoted to
 
 XV. Madame de Krildner. 253 
 
 you.' ^ She soon formed such a society — the most 
 remarkable, perhaps, that ever gathered around 
 a literary woman — a brilliant circle, of which she 
 was always the more brilhant centre. We shall 
 have occasion presently to enter it, and frequently 
 to re-enter it, as we advance in our narrative. 
 
 Napoleon's next blow against the genius of the 
 irrepressible authoress was to strike her tenderest 
 sensibilities, for it was to be given through her 
 father, the object of her idolatrous affection ; and 
 in such a manner as to smite both their souls — his 
 mth the self-suspicion that he had, unconsciously, 
 brought perpetual misfortune upon his child ; hers 
 with the greater pain, if possible, of witnessing his 
 grief and self-accusations. It was to be an exam- 
 ple of that Satanic sagacity which she attributes to 
 the tyrant in her ' Ten Years of Exile ' — his skill 
 in defeating his personal adversaries by an almost 
 intuitive knowledge of their personal weaknesses, 
 and by playing off their mutual affections, or anti- 
 pathies, against one another. To him extraordinary 
 affection was extraordinary weakness ; and nowhere 
 could it be more readily found than in the family 
 of Necker. But the fitting time was not yet ; the 
 book on Literature had produced a universal im- 
 pression, and Europe was not prepared to see its 
 now greatest woman crushed, without some more 
 a]^parent provocation. 
 
 ^ Lettres inedites et Souvenh^s biographiques de Madame Recamier et 
 de Madame de Stael, by his son, Barou de GtSrando. Paris, 1868.
 
 254 Madame de StaeL ch. 
 
 She was allowed, therefore, to enjoy tranquilly 
 for the time being, her restored salon, with the 
 best society of the capital crowding it. Bonaparte, 
 the same year (1800) in which her essay on Lite- 
 rature was published, passed through Geneva on 
 his way to Italy, and had there an interview with 
 Necker. ' The result,' she writes, ' of this conver- 
 sation was my assurance, for some time yet, at least, 
 of an abode in France. It was tlie last time that 
 the protective hand of my father was extended 
 over my life ; for he was not to witness my severer 
 persecutions, which would have afflicted him even 
 more than me.' ^ 
 
 After spending the summer, as usual, with him 
 at Coppet, she returned to Paris for the winter, 
 ' where,' she says, ' I passed the time peacefully. 
 I never called on the First Consul ; never saw 
 Talleyrand. I knew that Bonaparte did not like 
 me, but his tyranny was still self-restrained. Fo- 
 reigners treated me with distinction ; the Diplomatic 
 Corps spent their leisure with me ; and this Euro- 
 pean atmosphere served me as a safeguard.' Even 
 Joseph Bonaparte openly resumed his friendly re- 
 lations to her, and she now spent some time at 
 his charming estate of Morfontaine. Napoleon 
 himself met her at General Berthier's, and did not 
 disdain to address to her some indifferent words. 
 Fouche, Napoleon's grand pohceman, seemed mys- 
 teriously amiable, and ' sweetened,' she says, ' the 
 
 ■-' Dix Annces (VExil, i. 4, fi seqq.
 
 XV. 
 
 Coppet. 255 
 
 winter of 1801 by the readiness with which he 
 granted several requests I made for the restoration 
 of hnigres. He thus gave me, in the midst of my 
 disgrace, the pleasure of being useful ; and I am 
 ofrateful to him for it.' 
 
 It was about this time tliat she became ac- 
 quainted with one of the most extraordinary 
 women of the period, who will repeatedly appear 
 in our pages. Madame de Kriidner was ambitious 
 to be her rival in society, and afterwards in litera- 
 ture, but was won by her cordiality to an affection- 
 ate friendship ; and, by a later and singular moral 
 change, became too much absorbed in other aims 
 to admit of an emidation which she considered 
 culpable, and her best friends would have con- 
 sidered futile. Born in Eussia, of noble lineage, 
 she was married in her eighteenth year ^ to Baron 
 de Kriidner, who, as ambassador of the Czar, in- 
 troduced her into the highest — that is to say, the 
 most corrupt, society of the age. She had personal 
 attractions which, if not entitling her girlhood to 
 the pretensions of beauty, matured in her woman- 
 hood, and became irresistibly fascinating. Surpass- 
 ingly graceful in her manners, and endowed with an 
 intellect whicli, if not really genius, was very like 
 it, she was the centre of every circle she entered : 
 the object of admiration to men, and of envy to 
 
 ^ Not in her fourteenth, as Sainte-Beuve says, Revue des Deux 
 Movdes, 1887. Compare Eynard's Vie de Madame de Kriidner, i. 3. 
 Paris, 1849.
 
 256 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 women. She travelled extensively in German}?-, 
 France, Switzerland, and Italy, and everywhere 
 made a remarkable impression. She had, withal 
 a moral instinct, a native sensitiveness of conscience, 
 which never allowed her to be content with the 
 hfe she was leading, but which was temporarily 
 overborne by the maxims and usages of the society 
 in which she moved. She fell, not only into its 
 frivolities, but its vices ; and, though her marriage 
 had been one of passionate affection, she acknow- 
 ledged that its sanctity was violated. Her husband, 
 who (an illustration of the morality of the times) 
 had been twice married and divorced before, 
 treated her, after her fall, with a forbearance hardly 
 conceivable in our age, and refused her solicitation 
 for a legal separation. She subsequently devoted 
 her attention to hterature and wrote ' Eliza,' ' Alexis,' 
 and the ' Cabane des Lataniers.' Her style, simple 
 yet rich and elegant, recalls that of her friend and 
 correspondent, Bernardin de St. Pierre, the im- 
 mortal author of ' Paul and Virginia.' In 1804 
 she published her ' Valerie,' a work of ' prodigious 
 success in France and Germany,' says Sainte-Beuve, 
 ' and which can be read thrice over in a hfetime ' — 
 in youth, in middle age, and in old age. It is a 
 picture of the best part of her own early life, and has 
 given her a permanent place in French hterature. 
 
 She was at the height of her success in the 
 fashionable world when she met Madame de Stael, 
 at Coppet, in 1801. ' This interview, which,' says
 
 XV. Madame de Kriidner. 257 
 
 Madame de Kriidner's biographer, ' had long been 
 desired, was somewhat embarrassed, at first, by 
 the remembrance of some social rivalries, but im- 
 mediately became what it ought to be, thanks to 
 the presence of Madame Eilliet-Huber and Madame 
 Necker de Saussure. Madame de Stael made it 
 agreeable by her amiable frankness, and the con- 
 versation became as easy as interesting. The 
 asylum offered by Madame de Stael to numerous 
 victims of proscription had preserved at Coppet 
 all the traditions of French society, and the charm- 
 ing art of French conversation. The appearance 
 of Madame de Kriidner, in the midst of this circle 
 of elite minds from all countries, made a sensation ; 
 literature, art, philosophy — all subjects — were dis- 
 cussed in the reunion of these four women, so 
 richly ornamented with the precious gifts of the 
 mind and the heart. They occupied themselves 
 chiefly with literary topics.' The ' Genius of 
 Christianity ' was discussed. ' It is absolutely 
 necessary that you should see Chateaubriand at 
 Paris,' said Madame de Stael ; ' I will write you a 
 letter of introduction to him, or I will present you 
 to him, in person : one cannot comprehend a work 
 without knowing the author.' She did present 
 her, soon afterwards, in company with both tlie 
 Montmorencys and Benjamin Constant, when 
 Chateaubriand read to them two unpublished 
 fragments of the ' Genius,' — ' an event in lier life.' 
 
 In this intellectual atmosphere Madame de 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 Kriidner ' felt lierself,' continues her biographer, 
 * electrified, and re-inspired with the hterary am- 
 bition which had been extinguished by the storms 
 of her soul and the frivolities of her life.' She now 
 devoted herself to the composition of the works 
 above mentioned, without yet sacrificing her social 
 ambition. She shone in the highest circles of 
 Geneva. She excelled in the dance as well as in 
 conversation ; and Madame de Stael, who took a 
 generous pleasure in representing her friends in 
 her writings, gave, two years later, a graceful pic- 
 i,ure of her ' Shawl Dance,' in ' Delphine.' It is 
 probable, indeed, that the character and story of 
 Delphine were largely copied from Madame de 
 Kriidner at this time. The latter, writing to a 
 friend in Paris, after ' Delphine ' appeared, says 
 that the author has not only copied the dance but 
 ' painted the appearance, the manner of speaking, 
 the imagination of Sidonia.'* 
 
 The death of her liusband, about a year before 
 her visit to Coppet, had struck her conscience with 
 remorse. ' In vain,' remarks her biographer, ' she 
 remembered that her return and her avowals to 
 him had surpassed all that his generous heart de- 
 manded. Slie heard, from the deptli of his grave, 
 sobbing reproaches.' But the habits of her hfe 
 were still too strong for her good resolutions ; she 
 avoided, indeed, the sanctioned corruptions of the 
 
 ^ Vie &c. i. 7. Sidonia is the name of the heroine of her Cabane 
 dcs Lataniers, a personation of herself.
 
 XV. Madame de Kriidner. 259 
 
 fashionable world, but not its gaieties. The great 
 success of her ' Valerie ' intoxicated her ; but in 
 1806, while the applause and flatteries whicli that 
 work commanded were still greeting her every- 
 where, a surprising revolution transformed her 
 whole being : she became mystically devout. She 
 abandoned the dissipations of society, but not 
 society itself, nor the graces with which she had 
 fascinated it. She became to it a Sibyl, a prophetess. 
 Her superior intelligence, her rare faculties, seemed 
 intensified by a new moral force, a spiritual mag- 
 netism, which drew around her the highest minds ; 
 lier salon in Paris was thronged by fashionable as 
 well as by serious guests, attracted not only by the 
 novelty but the ability of her discussions, now 
 confined to the highest rehgious themes. She 
 travelled among the scenes of her former social 
 triumphs — in France, Switzerland, Italy, Germany, 
 Kussia — everywhere colloquially preaching against 
 the corruptions of tlie age, and declaring her new 
 rehgious convictions : in some places provoking- 
 persecution, and sometimes municipal opposition ; 
 but, in most, strangely interesting all classes, from 
 kings to peasants. Her influence on the Emperor 
 of Russia, the Queen of Prussia, Queen Hortense 
 of Holland, and the Princess Galitzin, was remark- 
 able. For some time she was Alexander's oracle on 
 rehgious, if not political questions. She maintained 
 intimate relations and correspondence with not a 
 few noble, and some royal personages, especially of 
 
 8 2
 
 26o Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 Germany ; and her intimacy with St. Pierre, Cha- 
 teaubriand, La Harpe, Benjamin Constant, Madame 
 de Genhs, Madame de Stael, and other eminent 
 minds, has rendered her name fandhar in the hte- 
 rary liistory of her times. 
 
 After nearly a score of years, spent in doing 
 good among the poor and afflicted, as well as 
 among the rich and noble — with a sincerity and 
 purity which could never be doubted, but with 
 some reUgious fantasies which impaired her useful- 
 ness — Madame de Krildner died in the Crimea on 
 Christmas-day, 1824, a death beautiful in its peace, 
 its hope, and its humihty. ' That which I have 
 done well,' she said ' will remain ; that which I 
 have done wrong (for how often have I taken for 
 the voice of God what was only the suggestion of 
 my imagination or my pride !) the mercy of God 
 will efface. I have nothing else to offer to God 
 or to men, but my numerous sins ; but the blood of 
 Christ cleanses me from all sin.' 
 
 At the time of her visit to Coppet, Necker was 
 preparing his ' Last Views of PoUtics and Finance,' ^ 
 At Madame de Stael's next summer visit he con- 
 sulted her about it. ' I found him,' she says, ' very 
 indignant at the course of affairs in France. He 
 had always so loved true liberty as to detest 
 popular anarchy ; he now felt that it was his duty 
 to write against the tyranny of a single man, after 
 so long combating that of multitudes. He was 
 
 ^ Dernieres Vues de Politique et de Finance. Lausanue, 1802.
 
 XV. 
 
 De Gdrando. 261 
 
 proud to expose himself to peril, if lie could there- 
 by merit the public esteem. I saw the danger of 
 his displeasing the First Consul, but I could not 
 stifle the song of the dying swan which might yet 
 be heard over the tomb of French hberty. I en- 
 couraged him to write.' 
 
 She jDostponed her return to Paris, in order not 
 to witness the Napoleonic festivities there. ' I know 
 of nothing more sad,' she continues, ' than these 
 pubhc rejoicings : the bewildered people celebra- 
 ting the preparations of their own slavery ; the 
 deluded victims bowing before theii' sacrificer ; the 
 hypocrisy of courtiers casting a veil over the arro- 
 gance of their master — all inspired me with unsur- 
 mountable disgust.' 
 
 De Gerando endeavoured to relieve her dis- 
 couragement — discouragement which arose from 
 the treatment of her father, more than from her 
 own, and especially from the prospects of Europe. 
 ' The price which I attach to our friendship,' he 
 wrote, ' increases daily. All those philanthropic 
 ideas which at twenty years of age exalted my soul, 
 and gave me entire nights of transporting study, 
 are to-day more fixed, more profound than ever, 
 and constantly fill my thouglits. It is necessary 
 that all elevated minds should war with energy 
 against that spirit of calculation and personal in- 
 terest which has become so general ; against that 
 scepticism which is perverting all the elements 
 of morality ; against that moral enervation, that
 
 262 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 baseness, whicli threatens the national character. I 
 would address to you the fine appeal of Socrates to 
 Anaximandra (in Aristippus) : " You seem to me 
 destined to become the priestess of moral truth on 
 the earth, to show to men the sublime path to the 
 beautiful and tlie good." You have with you one 
 of the best men in the world ;^ in him you can 
 study a model of virtue. It seems to me that 
 this subhme excellence can alone satisfy the im- 
 mense activity of your soul ; and I am persuaded 
 that your generous devotion to the good of man- 
 kind will solve for you that problem of happiness 
 which appears to you so unsolvable. It will be 
 delightful to awaken and sustain in all hearts 
 around you the love of virtue and of liberty ; to 
 associate the hope of human progress with that of 
 immortahty ; to lead men to religion and to the 
 sentiments of nature. If I could visit Coppet and 
 pass some hours with you on the shore of your 
 beautiful lake, it seems to me that I could con- 
 vince you that you should banish the sad memories 
 which discourage you, and give your life a new 
 object, an object worthy of you. I am wrong in 
 saying a new object, for it is towards this noble 
 goal that your works are directed ; and their 
 success is owing, in great part, to the generous 
 emotions which they have inspired in all hearts.' 
 
 On returning to the capital she found Berna- 
 (lotte, and a number of other generals and senators, 
 
 ^ Mathieu de Montmorency was now at Coppet.
 
 XV, Her Salon. 263 
 
 her personal friends, secretly combining to fore- 
 stall the usurpations of Bonaparte. They fre- 
 qiiently met at her house. ' The detection of their 
 designs,' slie says, ' would have ruined me. Bona- 
 parte affirmed that they always came forth from 
 my salon less his friends than they were before they 
 entered it. At last he looked upon me alone as 
 culpable among all the disaffected.' Her salon was, 
 meanwhile, a centre of polished, and especially of 
 literary society. There were many similar resorts ^ 
 about these times (1800-1803,) but none equal to 
 hers. Madame Eecamier gathered about her dis- 
 tinguished men of all classes. Around Madame 
 Joseph Bonaparte assembled diplomats, military 
 officers, and functionaries of the Government. In 
 the salons of Madame d'Houdetot and of Madame 
 Suard were still continued the traditions of the 
 eighteenth century ; the philosophers and littera- 
 teurs rallied there. In that of the Princesse de Poix, 
 and there almost alone, were strictly maintained 
 the sentiments and manners of the old regime by 
 the returned emigres. Madame de Beaumont (the 
 daughter of Montmorin), whom we have met in the 
 little colony of Mickleham, England, attracted a 
 select society in the Rue Neuve du Luxembourg, 
 where Fontanes introduced Chateaubriand, and 
 where that tender friendship was formed between 
 the latter and the accomplished hostess which 
 ended only witli her death at Rome — and o f 
 
 '' Saiute-Beuve's Qiatcauhriand et son Oroupe Littcraire. i. 7.
 
 264 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 which we shall hear again. Madame de Stael was 
 a frequent guest of most of these circles, and was 
 never present without being prominent ; but her 
 own house was a court thronged by the most dis- 
 tinguished personages of all classes, except the 
 most exclusive adherents of Napoleon. Sainte-Beuve 
 found among the papers of ChenedoUe a note on 
 her saloiiy as it appeared about this period. ' We 
 used to see there,' he says, ' Chateaubriand in all 
 the eclat of his first glory ; Madame Recamier in 
 all the delicate flower of her grace and her youth ; 
 Madame Viconti with her majestic Eoman beauty ; 
 tlie Chevalier de Boufflers in the neglige of a country 
 vicar, but smiling with the exquisite aspect and 
 finesse of a courtier, and scattering the most piquant 
 words with extreme good humour ; the Comte de 
 Narbonne, one of the most agreeable talkers of the 
 old court, always in a vein of happy remarks, and 
 oriving to the salon his inexhaustible treasures of 
 grace and gaiety and the charms of a conversation 
 which fascinated Napoleon himself; and, among 
 politicians Benjamin Constant, tall, erect, well-made, 
 blond, a httle pale, with long hair falhng in curls on 
 his neck. He had an extraordinary expression of 
 mockery and mahce in his smile, and especially in 
 his eyes. Notliing could be more piquant than his 
 conversation. Always epigrammatic, he treated 
 the highest questions of politics with transparent, 
 concise, and powerful logic, sarcasm pervading 
 his argument. Wlien, with admirable but dis-
 
 XV. 
 
 Constant. 265 
 
 giiised address, he led his adversary into the snare 
 which he had set for him, he left him there 
 confounded and helpless, under the blow of an 
 epigram from which there was no recovery. No 
 one understood better how to surprise with un- 
 expected overthrow an opponent in conversation. 
 In a word, he was an interlocutor, a second, 
 worthy of Madame de Stael.'^ 
 
 Bonaparte's suspicion of her influence on Ber- 
 nadotte, and other disaffected men in high positions, 
 was soon known to her ; it was expedient for her 
 to escape. ' I left,' slie writes, ' for Coppet again, 
 and arrived with my father in a state of profound 
 anxiety. Letters from Paris reported that the 
 Pirst Consul, after my departure, expressed himself 
 passionately against my relations with Bernadotte. 
 He had also rebuked the son of the Stadtholder, the 
 Prince of Orange, for dining with me. He could 
 not afford to lose Bernadotte, but he could crush 
 me.' 
 
 Necker's 'Last Views &c.' appeared in 1802. 
 He appreciated Napoleon's genius, and pronounced 
 him the man for the actual exigencies of France 
 — for her restoration to order and prosperity, but 
 prophetically showed the tendencies of the Consular 
 government to mihtary despotism and hereditary 
 monarchy ; assuming, nevertheless, that the First 
 Consul was still smcere in his avowals of loyalty 
 to the Kepublic. Napoleon was extremely irritated 
 
 '^ Chateaubriand et sou Gnmpe, i. 7.
 
 266 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 by this tacit detection and premature exposure 
 of liis ambitious designs. At his dictation, the 
 Consul Lebrun wrote to Necker, severely reproving 
 his boldness, advising him to abandon pohtics and 
 leave them to the First Consul, ' who was alone able 
 to govern France,' and threatenins^ his dau<2:hter 
 with exile for having shared in the preparation of 
 his book. She had indeed approved his design of 
 writing it, but it was prepared while she was 
 absent in Paris ; and, at her return to Coppet in 
 the spring, it had been sent to the press. The 
 Government accused her of having, at least, con- 
 veyed to him false reports of the state of France.^ 
 ' I have since,' she writes, ' I trust, myself de- 
 served this exile ; but Bonaparte, who troubled 
 himself to find out liow to wound most effectually, 
 wished to disturb the intimacy of our domestic life 
 by representing to me my father as the author 
 of my sufferings. This thought struck my father, 
 who could never repel a scruple ; but, thank God, 
 he was always able to assure himself tliat it never 
 entered my mind.' 
 
 It was in tliis summer that her friend Lacretelle 
 went to Coppet to thank his ' eloquent benefactress,' 
 as he calls her ; for she had procured liis liberation 
 after two years of imprisonment and of still greater 
 dangers. He luxd passed througli nearly all tlie 
 stirring events of the Eevolution, in Paris ; was pro- 
 scribed on the 13th Yendemiaire (year iv.) as one 
 
 '■* Considerations &c. iv. 7.
 
 XV. 
 
 Lacretelle. 267 
 
 of the chiefs of the movement against the Conven- 
 tion ; was arrested, two years hiter, and not re- 
 leased till the end of the next two years. He 
 became a member of tlie Academy and Professor 
 of History to the Faculty of Letters. His pubhc 
 lectures were attended, for many years, by enthu- 
 siastic croAvds. His writings are numerous, com- 
 prising more than thirty volumes, chiefly on the 
 history of France during his own times, of which 
 he is one of the best authorities — impartial, exact, 
 judicious, and vividly eloquent. He has given us 
 much of his own personal history in his ' Dix 
 Annees d'Epreuves pendant la Eevolution ; ' and 
 his maturest thoughts, on the highest subjects, in 
 the two volumes of his ' Testament.' He now 
 (1802) spent ten days with Madame de Stael, days 
 of high converse on the sublimest topics — Chris- 
 tian spirituaHsm, optifnism, &c., and has devoted 
 a long chapter (nearly forty pages) to a record of 
 his walks and talks with her on the picturesque 
 shores of Lake Leman.^ ' Nature,' he says, ' had 
 denied her beauty, but had given her an enchant- 
 ing voice, and charming eyes which reflected all 
 the sky of her soul — a sky sometimes stormy. 
 Tlie man Avho should murmur against her lack of 
 beauty would fall at her feet dazzled by her in- 
 tellect. She was born an intellectual conqueror. 
 As her friendship was full of devotion, she made 
 
 ' Testament PhUosophique et Litteraire, ii. 19. 2 vols. Paris, 
 1840.
 
 268 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 devoted friends, who gave proof of their fidehty 
 during her long persecutions. Her contest with 
 Napoleon was a struggle between two conquerors, 
 the one aspiring to the empire of the world, the 
 other to the empire of opinion. Necker was still alive 
 at the time of my visit, and had published a writing 
 which could not fail to augment the resentment 
 of the First Consul ; for the old and illustrious 
 Minister invited him to follow the example of 
 Washington. His daughter saw clearly that such 
 a pubhcation would definitively fix her fate, and 
 her exile at Coppet seemed imprisonment ; but 
 far from her was the thought of making her per- 
 sonal danger an obstacle to the glory of her father 
 and the welfare of France. You can judge how 
 such circumstances must have troubled the tran- 
 quillity of this retreat, this beautiful chateau, 
 visited by most of the illustrious men of Europe, 
 and which, in the days of horror, was consecrated 
 by the most delicate and courageous hospitality. 
 Necker showed the serenity of a man who had 
 done his duty and satisfied his conscience ; but 
 you could see that joy had long been absent from 
 his soul. He returned only with a smile the 
 vivid sallies of his daughter, who affected to be 
 tranquil, and for whom everything else disappeared 
 in the presence of her father. Benjamin Constant 
 entered into these conversations with his sharp 
 j)leasantries. Madame de Stael apj)eared to me 
 now under new and touching aspects. I saw her
 
 XV. 
 
 At Coppet. 269 
 
 translate Tacitus with her eldest son (laureate of 
 the College of Geneva), and frequently her genius 
 sparkled in her commentaries ; but, too frequently- 
 carried away with passion, she seized the arrows, 
 thrown by the historian against Tiberius, and 
 directed them against the First Consul. She 
 would amuse herself with the amiable extrava- 
 gances of her second son slain some years later in 
 a duel in Germany. She devoted herself to the 
 education of her daughter, afterwards the Duchesse 
 de Broglie, whom all have agreed to recognise as 
 the model of her sex, and whose premature death 
 has occasioned universal regrets.' 
 
 During a long walk in the park of the chateau, 
 they talk of Napoleon's severities towards her. ' My 
 courage bends,' she says, ' but not my will. I suffer, 
 but wish no remedy which can degrade me. I have 
 the fears of a woman, but they cannot make me a 
 hypocrite or a slave.' They turn to more agree- 
 able topics — the spiritual philosophy, final causes, 
 and ultimate, universal good — when she suddenly 
 arrests the discussion. ' Let us w^alk farther,' she 
 whispers, ' it is the hour at which my father goes 
 to my mother's tomb.' She pointed to a sort 
 of chapel in which reposed the body of Madame 
 Necker, and added, 'My father's limbs are so badly 
 swollen, that he dreads to be seen tottering along : he 
 can only take this short walk ; he takes it regu- 
 larly, but with extreme fatigue.' 'We went to the 
 border of the lake to continue our conversation : the
 
 2 JO Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 waters were tinored with the colours of the settinor 
 sun. She was m a reverie : I saw that her thoughts 
 were with her father at the tomb. But her looks 
 became animated when she raised them towards 
 tlie resplendent sky. The serene lake, the balmy 
 air, the dying murmurs of the evening, and, above 
 all, the necessity she felt of seeking a refuge above 
 against the sad thoughts that assailed lier — all 
 suofsested to me that our conversation was about to 
 take a new charm.' 
 
 It did take a new charm, and a sublime one ; 
 but the discussion was too long to be reproduced 
 here. It was on Fontenelle's ' Plurahty of Worlds,' 
 the Theosophy of Saint-Martin, and the Theodicy of 
 Leibnitz ; on the moral system of the universe, and 
 the reality of the spiritual world : chiefly on the 
 hope that out of all evil — even such atrocious evil 
 as they both had witnessed in the Revolution — final 
 and immeasurable good will come. ' My optimism,' 
 exclaimed Lacretelle, ' is but a complete spiritualism, 
 an absolute faith in a beneficent God.' Tlie dis- 
 cussion waxed dithyrambic. Madame de Stael's 
 eloquence reminds us of tlie remark, often made by 
 her friends, that her conversation far surpassed her 
 writings. It is not without vivid salhes, and occa- 
 sional traits of piquancy, not to say pleasantry ; 
 but it rises to the height of the subject. ' There is 
 a charm, my friend,' she exclaims, ' in such a spiri- 
 tualistic discussion which presents God in all the 
 grandeur of his goodness. I ex])erience intimately
 
 XV. 
 
 Mysticism. 271 
 
 its sweetness even at this moment, when I am 
 haunted by the fear of a long separation from all 
 that pleases me, all whom I know, all whom I 
 love ; and I know not how to love moderately. 
 This mysticism is in reahty but the reverie of love 
 and of hope, expanded into the infinite. It is the 
 most precious treasure that Christianity has borne to 
 our world. " God is great," says the law of Mo- 
 hammed, and Mussulman fatahsm bows, with the 
 frozen submission of slavery, before its despot, who 
 conducts wliither he will, and strikes when he will. 
 " God is love," says the law of Christ, and behold His 
 grandeur, at once sublime and merciful ! If human 
 love draws together all souls, divine love draws to- 
 gether the creature and the Creator, the intelligent 
 atom and the Intelhgence which fills the universe. 
 All worldly as I am, I have, at times, some of the 
 experience of St. Theresa ; and tliese are the best 
 moments of my life. But they are rare with a mind 
 as mobile as it is ardent. Oh, that I could enjoy 
 them more frequently ! Then, should I be chased 
 even to the ice of the pole, and see all potentates, 
 all nations, bow under the flaming sword of the 
 European dictator, the pupil of Macliiavelh trans- 
 formed into a Ca3sar, I w^ould " still liold myself 
 erect," as Montesquieu says, " backed against the 
 hmits of the globe," to repel the universal servitude ; 
 and in the liorrors of the frozen deserts still com- 
 mune with God. But I was not born for a con- 
 templative life.'
 
 272 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 ' Such,' concludes Lacretelle's record, ' such was 
 the ecstasy of Madame de Stael on this beautiful 
 night. The bell recalled us to the chateau. It 
 was the hour at which she received the good-night 
 benediction of her father.' 
 
 Though she was now meditating her ' Delphine,' 
 she found leisure to study the philosophy of Kant, 
 which had been recently revealed to France by a 
 young Frenchman, M. Villers, who became one of her 
 favourite correspondents.^ She wrote to De Gerando 
 on the system of the great German ; and, his son says, 
 the correspondence shows that ' in appreciating the 
 system of Kant she rises to the highest philosophic 
 conceptions, and defends the cause of spiritualism 
 with an ardent logic' This was, probably, her 
 first inclination towards that study of the German 
 mind which at last culminated in her greatest work, 
 the ' Allemagne.' She admired Yillers as a man of 
 ' extraordinary intellect, and remarkable for the 
 flexibility and perspicacity of his thoughts.' She 
 insists that there is in man a profounder faculty 
 than that which takes cognisance of impressions 
 received by the senses. ' The conscience,' she says, 
 ' comes from no ideas received by the senses. If 
 all men have called it an interior voice, another 
 self, it is because they have felt that its impressions 
 are not of the nature of other impressions. I consider 
 all that Villers says on this subject very beautiful. 
 In short, I think tliis system is grand, devout, and 
 
 "^ Expose de la Philosophie dcKant. Metz, 1801.
 
 XV. 
 
 Ph ilosophy. 273 
 
 worthy of both man and God. What I love in 
 philosophy is, that it examines everything by 
 reason ; but I do not restrict myself to this or that 
 system, as alone meriting the name of philosophy. 
 The anti-philosophers are those who tell us that 
 we have reason, but not to trust it ; faculties, but 
 not to use them ; and who would introduce despo- 
 tism even into our asylum — thought. I hold those 
 to be intolerant who doubt my philosophy because 
 I love, in what Villers has given us of the philoso- 
 phy of Kant, that which is most favourable to the 
 ennobhng hopes of a future life. Show my letter 
 to Mathieu, and let us hope to discuss the subject 
 together ; for such debates are always a pleasure 
 to us. I congratulate you on the prize awarded you 
 by the Academy of Berlin. I rejoice in it as if it 
 were a success of my own. I have been reading 
 with deep feeling your life of Cafiarelli du Falga ; 
 it reveals your own mind and character, and will 
 do you credit with all your readers.' 
 
 At the beginning of the winter (of 1802-1803) 
 her thoughts turned longingly again towards Paris. 
 ' Wlien 1 read,' she says, ' in the papers of the 
 many distinguished Englishmen and intellectiuil 
 Frenchmen who were resorting to the capital, I 
 felt, I confess, a vivid desire to join them. I will 
 not dissemble that a residence in Paris has irresis- 
 tible charms for me. I was born there ; I passed my 
 early hfe there ; it is there only that I can find the 
 generation which has known my father, the friends 
 VOL. I. T
 
 2 74 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 who have passed through the perils of the Eevoki- 
 tion with us. That love of country which has in- 
 spired the strongest minds sways us most power- 
 fully when it combines with the tastes of the mind, 
 the affections of the heart and the habitudes of the 
 imagination. French conversation exists only in 
 Paris ; and conversation has been, from my infancy, 
 my greatest pleasure. The pain I experienced at 
 the fear of being deprived of my home in the capi- 
 tal was uncontrollable by my reason. I was then in 
 all the vivacity of my life, and it is precisely the 
 need of animated enjoyments which most frequently 
 leads to despair, because it renders resignation so 
 difficult ; and without this we cannot bear the 
 vicissitudes of life.'^ But she had still stronger 
 motives for wishing to return : she desired to give 
 her children, especially her sons, the educational 
 advantages of the metropolis. The reported illness 
 of her husband decided her wavering purpose ; she 
 hastened to attend him, but she soon perceived 
 that it would be prudent to escape again. She 
 was conveying him towards Coppet, when, as we 
 have seen, he died on the route.^ She hastened 
 to her father and awaited better auspices for her 
 return to Paris. 
 
 * Dix Annees, i. 10. 
 
 ' Tlie allusions of French writers to his death are strangely con- 
 fused. GefFroy {Revue des Deux Mondes, 1850) says : ' He departed in 
 1802 with her and her children, on a journey to Sweden, and died on 
 the frontier of France.' Others say he died in Paris in ] 798. I have 
 followed Madame Necker de Saussui-e, Notice, ii.
 
 XVI. ' Delphine! 275 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LITEEATURE ' DELPHINE.' 
 
 Publication of 'Delpliine '—Criticism on it— Madame de Genlis attacks 
 it — Sophie Gay defends it— Madame de Stael's Defence of it — 
 Talleyrand a T^haracter in it — His Turn mot respecting it — Madame 
 de Kriidner's Criticism. 
 
 She had relieved her sufferings by the composition 
 of her ' Delphine ; ' for she had learned by experi- 
 ence that the trials of hfe cannot, with elevated 
 minds at least, be well borne without occupation, 
 
 without a sustained and sustaining motive that 
 
 labour is the law of happiness. 'Delphine' was 
 pubhshed in 1802, ^ and was therefore a child of 
 her genius brought forth amidst troubles which 
 would have disabled, for Hterary labour, most men, 
 not to say women. 
 
 Baudrillart has expressed the purport of the 
 
 ^ The Table Chnmolor/ique Sec. at the end of her CEuvres conpletcs 
 (vol. xvii.), by her son, Baron de Stael, says 1803. This authority 
 ought to be indisputable, but all others give 1802. See Biographie 
 TJniverselle, Nouvelle Biographie Generale, Querard's France LitUraire 
 &c. I prefer Querard's authority. According to him, BelpMne was 
 first published at Geneva in 1802, but was re-issued at Paris in 1803. 
 This difference of dates is not unimportant, as indicating the locality 
 and circumstances in which the work was written. 
 
 I '1
 
 276 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 book : ' the thought,' he says, ' which was always 
 dear to its author marks it everywhere, — that of 
 the happiness possible only in marriage ; but in- 
 complete and broken, sooner or later, in illegitimate 
 unions.' ^ Her cousin more completely states its 
 design : ' One melancholy thought had pursued her 
 youth. Penetrated by a profound pity for the fate 
 of woman, she sympathised, above all, with women 
 endowed with superior faculties. And when the 
 happiness of love in marriage — to her eyes, the 
 highest of all — had not been accorded to them, it 
 seemed to lier equally difficult for them to enclose 
 themselves within the narrow bounds of their fate, 
 or to free those bounds without exposing themselves 
 to the saddest sufferings. This thought, which could 
 be presented in a romance under mfinite forms, 
 led her naturally to paint the picture of a woman, 
 at once brilhant and unhappy, dominated by her 
 affections, badly directed by her independent spirit, 
 and suffering by her most amiable qualities.'^ 
 
 Sainte-Beuve repels the charge that the book is 
 an attack on marriage. ' It seems to me, on the 
 contrary,' he says, ' that the chief idea is the desire 
 of happiness in marriage ; a profound conviction of 
 the impossibihty of being otherwise haj)py. This 
 idea of happiness in marriage always pursued 
 Madame de Stael, as the romantic situations of 
 
 "^ Eloge de Madame de Stael. Paris, 1850. ' Crowned ' by the French 
 Academy. 
 
 •" Notice &c.
 
 XVI. Love in Marriage. 277 
 
 which they are deprived pursue and agitate other 
 souls.' She had not known this happiness in her 
 own experience. She had seen it in the Hfe of her 
 parents. Her mother had written about it, in her 
 essay on ' Divorce,' her father in his ' Cours de 
 Morale Eehgieuse.' In the chapter on ' Love,' in 
 her own book on the ' Influence of tlie Passions,' 
 she had spoken with emotion of an aged couple, 
 still lovers in marriage, whom she had met in 
 England. In her work on Literature she had cited 
 from Thomson's ' Seasons ' the concluding verses of 
 
 * Spring,' that describe the perfect union which, 
 
 * for her, was ideal and too absent.' In her ' Ger- 
 many ' she recurs to the subject in language full 
 of moral significance, as interpreted by the secret 
 circumstances which inspired it. In ' Delphine ' 
 she represents, by the picture of the happy family 
 of Belmont, ' this domestic Eden, always desired by 
 her in the storms of her hfe.' Incessant allusions 
 to the subject occur in its pages. They are fre- 
 quent also in her ' Corinne.' In the conversation 
 after the scene of the Roman ball, Oswald scorns 
 the Itahan manners and poetry regarding love. 
 
 * Wliere,' he asks Corinne, ' do you discover the 
 pathetic and tender sentiment which pervades our 
 poetry? What can you compare with the scene 
 of Belvidera and her husband in Otway ; with 
 Romeo in Shakespeare ; above all, witli the admir- 
 able verses of Thomson in his chant of the Spring- 
 time, in which he paints so nobly and touchingly
 
 278 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 the happiness of love in marriage ? Is there one 
 such marriage in Italy ? And where there is no 
 domestic happiness, can tliere be love ? Is not this 
 happiness the object of the passion of the heart, 
 as possession is that of the passion of the senses ? 
 The quahties of the heart and the mind fix our 
 preferences. And what do these quahties make 
 us desire ? Is it not marriage, that is to say, asso- 
 ciation with all the sentiments and all the thoughts 
 of another ? ' 
 
 ' In recurring so frequently to this dream, she 
 had not,' remarks Sainte-Beuve, ' to seek for illus- 
 trations. Her thoughts, in going forth from her- 
 self, found always near her examples on which to 
 rest. In default of her own happiness she re- 
 called that of her mother, and anticipated that of 
 her daughter.'^ And she sought to reahse her 
 dream in her own second marriage. 
 
 The Government controlled, at this time, the 
 press of France, if not by laws, yet by its influence 
 or its patronage, and a general attack was made on 
 the new romance. Its morality was questioned — a 
 remarkable criticism for the times. Madame de 
 Genlis, whose hfe had given her no authority as a 
 teacher of morality,^ availed herself of its publica- 
 tion to gratify her rancorous jealousy of her literary 
 and unapproachable rival, though the latter had 
 
 ^ Critiques et Portraits Litteraircs, iii. 
 
 '" For her relations with the infamous ' Egalite/ see Ticknor's Life 
 &c. ii. 9.
 
 XVI. Morality of ' Delphine' 279 
 
 paid her a generous but liardly merited compli- 
 ment in tlie essay on Literature.^ She pubhshed a 
 novel in the Bibliotheque des Eomans, in which, 
 b}'- mutilated citations and studied misconstructions, 
 she tried to prove that Madame cle Stael was 
 a corrupter of public morality, especially as an 
 apologist for suicide. The unguarded passages on 
 this subject in 'Delphine,' and in the essay on the 
 Passions, were afterwards amply explained, and 
 suicide emphatically condemned in her ' Eeflections 
 on Suicide.' Sophie Gay (celebrated for her beauty, 
 her wit, and her literary works) defended Madame 
 de Stael and resented the attack of Madame de 
 Genhs, in her ' Laure d'Estelle,' in which she paints 
 the jealous critic (in the character of Madame de 
 Gercourt) as pretentious, perfidious, pedantic, and 
 suspected of ' placing the vices in action and the 
 virtues in precept.' Madame de Stael gave a new 
 denouement to her story, in order to save it from 
 such constructions — but not without the sacrifice 
 of some of its finest artistic qualities. Her collected 
 works include an able posthumous essay on the 
 moral design of ' Delphine,' ^ in whicli she answers 
 her critics, and vindicates the book from an artistic 
 standpoint. Eeferring to its obnoxious features, 
 she says : ' These are romantic sentiments which a 
 severe morality ouglit to repress ; these are senti- 
 ments for whicli it is just to suffer, but for wliicli it 
 
 ® Litterature kc. ii. 5. Note. 
 
 '' (Euvres co7npIefes, i. Paris, 1871.
 
 28o Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 is just also to be pitiful. Eomances which paint 
 life ought not to present perfect characters, but 
 characters which show what is good and what is 
 blamable in human conduct, and the natural con- 
 sequences of such conduct. The character of Del- 
 phine, and the evils which result to her from that 
 character, prove precisely what I develop. I 
 never wished to present Delphine as a model to be 
 copied.' She concludes with the just remark that 
 ' Writers, like educators, can do more good by 
 what they inspire than by what they teach. De- 
 hcate and pure thoughts, in life as in books, can 
 animate each word ; can paint themselves in every 
 feature, without being formally declared or ex- 
 pressed in maxims ; and the morality of a work of 
 the imagination consists mucli more in the general 
 impressions which it gives than in its narrative 
 details.' 
 
 Just as these remarks may be, ' Delphine ' is not 
 a wholesome book, morally or intellectually. It is 
 a too romantic romance. It is incomparably supe- 
 rior to similar productions in the French litera- 
 ture of its time, or of preceding times, and this 
 is a consideration which should be accorded to its 
 author. Vinet, after criticising the work from his 
 own high moral standpoint, says, ' Delphine, with all 
 her errors, is one of the most touching creations of 
 genius ; her character is as true as it is charming. 
 It is impossible not to love this generous soul, which 
 lives only for love and self-sacrifice. No fiction
 
 XVI. Criticisms on'' Delphine! 281 
 
 has ever been more vitally real. Need we be 
 astonished at the fact? The author, in making 
 Delphine speak, speaks herself ; the events are fic- 
 titious, the character is not ; here then the truth 
 has cost nothing. No work of Madame de Stael 
 has been written with more facile, more abundant 
 power. If she had not yet the maturity of her 
 opinions, she had, I beheve, all the plenitude of her 
 talents.' 
 
 Doudan, an excellent judge, writing to a friend, 
 says, ' I have seen in no other book so profound a 
 knowledge of the instincts of society ; those instincts 
 which are as unchangeable as the foundations of 
 human nature. Neither La Eochefoucauld nor La 
 Bruyere has excelled it in this kind of anatomy ; 
 still, you will discover the tone of enthusiasm, 
 which pervades the book, too high by two or three 
 notes. All this was and ought to be at the diapason 
 of the end of the eighteenth century. The senti- 
 ments clothed themselves then in a manner more 
 demonstrative. We are more reserved, more re- 
 ticent, perhaps, because we have less vitality '^ 
 
 Vinet remarks that there can hardly be a doubt 
 that Madame de Stael iji;ave her own character to 
 Delphine ; and in the supposition, so far as the 
 character is concerned, ' there is nothing injurious 
 to her.'^ Li the most original and thoroughly 
 finished character of the book, that of Madame de 
 
 ^ Melanges et Leitres de Z. Doudan &c. ii. (4 vols.). Paris, 1876. 
 * Litteratiire Fran^dise an XIX' Siecle, i.
 
 282 Madame de Stael. ch, 
 
 Vernon, tliere can hardly be more doubt that she 
 painted her old but treacherous friend Talleyrand. 
 The ' feminine Machiavelism, the supreme j^et 
 indolent egotism, the cool systematic dissimulation, 
 and passionless dissipation ' of the character, have 
 fastened it for ever on that unprincipled statesman. 
 It was immediately recognised by himself, at least, 
 and led to one of his notable hons mots. ' In her 
 romance,' he said, alluding to the virile character 
 of her mind, ' she has disguised us both as women 
 — herself and me.' ^ Like most egotists, he dishked 
 talent in women, as rendering them masculine and 
 placing them too much on an equahty with men 
 — with himself He could never forgive her for 
 having proved herself his superior in conversa- 
 tion, and even in repartee. He had learned to 
 appreciate her superb intellect, but could never 
 appreciate her feminine heart. 
 
 Other real characters have been traced in her 
 portraits Avith more or less probabihty. Madame 
 de Cerlebe is supposed to represent her accom- 
 plished cousin Madame Necker de Saussure ; and 
 Monsieur de Sebensei, Benjamin Constant ; but in 
 both cases, especially in the last, we must admit 
 important qualifications." Madame de Krlidner, 
 
 ^ Univers Pittoresque, xx\i. Paris, 1845. Sir James Mackintosh 
 said that he heard from Madame de Stael herself the story of Talley- 
 rand's bon viof. Monuirs &c. by liis Son, ii. 5. London, 1836. 
 
 ^ Sainte-Beuve, Critiques et Portraits, iii. Paris, 1844. The 
 author of the Bioyraphie de Haller, chap. vii. (Paris, 1845), says that 
 Madame de Cerlehe was copied from the daughter of llaller, Madame
 
 XVI. Madame de Kriidners Criticism. 283 
 
 as Ave have noticed, is presented not only in the 
 ' shawl dance ' of the first volnme, but in some of 
 lier personal traits. Delphine, if not an invented, 
 is at least a composite character ; the author has 
 undoubtedly drawn much of the portrait from 
 herself, but probably more of it from Madame de 
 Krlidner. There are striking coincidences between 
 both the characteristics and history of the latter 
 and those of the heroine. Madame de Krudner, 
 intellectually reawakened by Madame de Stael, had 
 nearly completed her ' Valerie,' and was now read- 
 ing the manuscript in literary circles, where it was 
 enthusiastically applauded. She ' suspected that 
 tlie dear woman ' — Madame de Stael — ' was touched 
 with the jealousy of success, above all now that 
 some of the charms of Delphine were recognised 
 in Sidonia,' ^ and that rumours were current re- 
 specting the extraordinary merits of ' Valerie ; ' yet 
 she made, in a letter to M. Berenger, of Lyons, a 
 candid acknowledgment of the ' immense talent ' 
 of Madame de Stael, and a remarkably just criticism 
 of ' Delphine,' excepting the general misapprehen- 
 sion, which she shared, of the teaching of the book 
 regarding suicide. ' As to the rest,' she remarks, 
 ' an inconsistency is not an intention ; and why 
 suspect that Madame de Stael has wished to make 
 
 de Zeerleber, and with but a slight change of name. The daughter of 
 the ' grand Haller ' inherited many of the excellences of her father 
 and was worthy of the character. 
 ^ Vie &c. i. 7.
 
 2 84 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 a dangerous book — she, who is so ethical in her 
 studies, and who believes so firmly in perfectibihty 
 in this strange age? Let us render more justice to 
 the beauties of the work. I see in Delphine only 
 the sad victim of a strong and unhappy passion ; 
 and, in her last actions, the consequences of a mind 
 which has ceased to reason. An upright woman, 
 with an ardent soul, environed by the perfidy of the 
 fashionable world, falls, with all her candour, into 
 the snares of love and misfortune. And if Delphine 
 is so terribly punished, has not the author, by her 
 talent to appal us thus by the consequences of vice, 
 divined the secret of moral teaching, and attained 
 the aim of the romancer ? ' 
 
 She not only commemorated some of her 
 associates in the characters of the book, but 
 (writes one of her still surviving friends) ' the 
 origin of its title is equally worthy of interest.' 
 She was desirous of meeting the First Consul, for 
 some urgent reason, and went to the villa of 
 Madame de Montessan, wliither he frequently re- 
 sorted. ' She was alone in one of the salles when 
 he arrived, accompanied by the consular court 
 of brilliant young women. The latter knew the 
 growing liostihty of their master towards her, and 
 passed, witliout noticing lier, to tlie other end of 
 the salle^ leaving her entirely alone. She was thus 
 placed in quarantine, and her position was becoming 
 extremely painful, when a young lady, more coura- 
 geous and more compassionate than her compa-
 
 XVI. Delphine, Comtesse de Ctcstme. 285 
 
 nions crossed the salle and took a seat by her side. 
 Madame de Stael was touched by this kindness, 
 and, in the course of the conversation, asked for 
 her Christian name. ' Delphine,' she responded. 
 ' Ah, I will try to immortahse it,' exclaimed Madame 
 de Stael ; and she kept her word. This sensible 
 young lady was the Comtesse de Custine.'* 
 
 * Manuscript Souvenirs of Pictet de Sergy.
 
 286 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 COPPET AM) ITS SOCIETY. 
 
 Glimpses of Coppet — Its Society — Madame Eilliet-Huber — Madame 
 Necker de Saussm*e — Sismondi in Love — Madame de Stael initiates 
 his Historical Studies — Bonstetten — Frederica Brun — INIadame de 
 Stael as a Mother — Daily Life at Ooppet. 
 
 Publishing her book at Geneva, Madame de Stael 
 remained there, and at Coppet, through the winter 
 (I802-I803), not without some gratification from 
 the interest which ' Delphine ' excited in the 
 Hterary and fashionable worlds ; and with still 
 better enjoyment in the select but numerous society 
 which always spontaneously gathered about her 
 at her country asylum and in the neighbouring 
 city. This society, comprising the best minds of 
 Geneva and of the other communities on the 
 shores of Lake Leman, was frequently enlarged 
 by the presence of distinguished travellers from 
 England, Germany and France ; for Coppet was 
 already becoming, hke Ferney and Weimar, an 
 intellectual centre of Europe. The associate of 
 her cliildhood in the woods of St. Ouen, Madame 
 Eilliet-Huber, now married and settled at Geneva, 
 was often at the chateau. One of her intimate
 
 XVII. Society at Coppet. 287 
 
 friends writes that ' she held, during thirty years, 
 tlie sceptre of intellect in Geneva ; with something, 
 nevertheless, in her manners, a Httfe precieuse. 
 With less genius than Madame de Stael, Madame 
 Eilliet-Huber was, like her, perfectly good ; she 
 loved conversation extremely, and shone very 
 much in it ; she wrote ably. She spent much of 
 her time with her hterary friend, M. de Chateau- 
 vieux, at the chateau of Choully.' ^ 
 
 Madame Necker de Saussure was a still more 
 frequent guest at Coppet — one of the most culti- 
 vated women of her times, and now in the richest 
 maturity of her faculties, the pride of Geneva, and 
 to be later known throughout Europe by her 
 treatise on Education. ' She had in her conversa- 
 tion,' says a visitor at Coppet, ' a sort of serious 
 enthusiasm, exempt from acerbity, which strongly 
 excited the interest of Madame de Stael's circle — a 
 sustained and elegant firmness, reheved by sallies 
 of amiable gaiety. Her features were grave but 
 noble, her eyes penetrating but of extreme kindh- 
 ness.' ^ A host of litterateurs and ' scientists,' 
 already famous or rising to fame, gathered around 
 the mistress of tlie chateau. One who knew them 
 all enumerates : ' CandoUe, the author of a new 
 system of botany ; Pictet, a professor of physics, 
 who threw new light on his science ; Chateauvieux, 
 author of Letters on Italy, in which he studied 
 
 ' Pictet de Sergy's unpublished Souvenirs. 
 
 ^ Secretan's Galerie Suisse, ii. Lausauue, 1876.
 
 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CH. 
 
 society with an exquisite judgment ; Dumont, wlio, 
 in reproducing the writings of Benthani, gave 
 them new force ; Prevost, who discovered the laws 
 of radiant caloric and popularised the Scotch phi- 
 losophy ; Cellerier, who, in the pulpit, sustained 
 morahty by the persuasive authority of the Gospel ; 
 Sismondi, beginning his vast historical researches ; 
 Bonstetten, prodigious as a thinker — all these vari- 
 ous hghts borrowed, in some measure, their warmth 
 and lustre from the brilhant centre of Coppet.' ^ 
 
 She was among the first to recognise the genius 
 of Sismondi, and to determine his literary career. 
 He had produced but one book and she had read 
 only its introduction ; but that was sufficient to re- 
 veal to her penetrating insight his capabilities. She 
 sent him an invitation to dinner, and assured him 
 that he could distinguish himself if he would per- 
 severe in his labours ; that she considered him 
 the most just and profound thinker in Geneva, the 
 man most certain to rise. The young writer was, 
 of course, charmed, not only by her encourage- 
 ments, but by her frank and easy manners, which 
 never failed to place at ease anyone who con- 
 versed with her. He was inspired with trustfulness, 
 and immediately confided to her a passion which, 
 at this time, swayed him infinitely more than liis 
 literary ambition. In short, Sismondi was in love ; 
 the only romance of his hfe, the sad brief episode 
 of his Lucile, was now absorbing his thoughts, 
 
 ^ Pictet de Sergy's unpublished Souvenirs.
 
 XVII. 
 
 Sismo7idi. 289 
 
 ' and,' says his biographer, ' for the first time, he 
 encountered from ]iis mother the most ardent oppo- 
 sition.' Who could sympathise with him like the 
 author of ' Delpliine ' ? Lucile was poor ; Geneva, 
 though democratic, was preposterously aristocratic 
 in the pretensions of wealth and family lineage. 
 ^ Madame de Stael responded to me,' he writes, 
 ' that perhaps she might use the same language as 
 my mother ; that in " Delphine " she had taught 
 firmness against pubhc opinion, but not against 
 that of parents ; that the young girl might not 
 only bring me no fortune, but might reduce me to 
 dependence ; that she herself regarded the Genevan 
 distinctions of famihes as ridiculous, but neverthe- 
 less my choice might open or shut the doors of the 
 best company for or against me ; but that if Lucile 
 were the best choice I could make, if she could not 
 be replaced by a better in mind and character, then 
 this consideration should outweio^h all others.' 
 They had later discussions of the subject, but fate 
 solved the problem. His parent was unyielding. 
 ' This painful opposition,' says his biographer, ' de- 
 stroyed the health of the young girl, and she died of 
 consumption in 1802.'^ Madame de Stael fortified 
 him with manly courage, and aroused the hterary 
 ambition which gave to the world the History of 
 the Itahan Eepublics, the History of the Literature 
 of Southern Europe, the History of the French, 
 and so many other great works. Sismondi was 
 
 ■* Fragments de son Journal et Correspondance. Geneva^ 1857. 
 VOL. I. IT
 
 290 Madame dc Stacl. ch. 
 
 soon installed in the chateau at Coppet, and wrote 
 there some of liis most important volumes. 
 
 The sage Bonstetten, friend of her mother as 
 well as of herself, became an oracle at Coppet. In 
 ' seeing her, in hearing her, he felt himself electri- 
 fied.' ' There is,' he remarked, ' more intellect dis- 
 played in one day at Coppet than in many whole 
 countries in an entire year.' Madame de Stael's 
 death was in the end an irreparable loss both for 
 his mind and heart ; the old man complained of 
 being thenceforward intellectually maimed.^ He 
 delighted to read his works to her, for criticism, 
 before their publication. ' She is so free from pre- 
 judices,' he says, ' so clear, that I see my pictures 
 in her soul as in a mirror.' ^ A Bernese Swiss, 
 his native lano-uaixe was German : but Madame 
 de Stael insisted that French would serve better 
 for his philosophic works. His friend Matthison, 
 the poet, had urged him to write in German 
 only ; but Madame de Stael liad stronger influence 
 over him. Generously eager for the success of 
 her hterary associates, she inspired and directed 
 his studies as she did those of Sismondi, Barrante, 
 and others. She exerted herself to procure pub- 
 hshers for his books, and when liis work on Latium 
 appeared, she wrote notices of it for the French 
 periodicals. He prized her friendship and yielded 
 
 ^ Secretan's Galerie Suisse, ii. 
 
 '^ Steinlen's Cliarlcs Victor de Bonstetten : iltude BiograpMque ct 
 Litter aire. Lausanne, 18G0.
 
 XVII. 
 
 Bonstetten. 291 
 
 to her advice in favour of the use of the Frencli 
 lanfifuaoje ; but found it a formidable task. His 
 German biographer gives a comical account of 
 his difficulties, his despair, l^etween the two lan- 
 guages. Born on the limit of both, and where 
 neither was perfect, he was in danger of spoiling his 
 style in either. During his residence at Yverdon 
 and Geneva, and also in his youthful travels, he had 
 used the French, and was familiar enough with it as 
 a spoken, but not as a written language ; meanwhile 
 he was losing his German. In his sojourns with 
 Miiller, Matthison, and Frederica Brun, in Germany 
 and the l!^orth, especially at Copenhagen, where he 
 pubhshed six works in German, this language had 
 again become habitual to him, at tlie risk of his 
 French. ' Now,' says his biographer, ' Madame de 
 Stael stormed upon him to force him back again 
 to French. "You cannot conceive," he ^vrote, 
 " what ox-work I am attempting ; but I feel that it 
 is necessary. My thoughts are in such conflict as 
 to extort martyr-shrieks from me." ' ^. He resolutely 
 persisted, however, in the vexatious task, but his 
 readings at Coppet sometimes put some of the 
 company to sleep, especially Keeker. ' It is still 
 a question,' he says, ' whether I can succeed 
 in French. Nothing is more ludicrous tlian the 
 history of my French book — what Necker blames, 
 Sismondi thinks beautiful : it is with style as Avith 
 the toilette. In the name of heaven, sa3^s one, 
 
 ■^ Morell's Karl von Bonstetten, viii. Winterthur, 1864. 
 V 3
 
 292 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 do not place this word here, or you will be lost ; 
 this term is best, this is the most French, says 
 another. This French is a lano^ua^e for devils. 
 The attention which the French give to style is 
 exags^erated ; it is more a matter of fashion than of 
 reason. The Germans have the contrary fault.' 
 
 Bonstetten's friend and correspondent, the once 
 well-known autlioress, Frederica Brun, was with 
 him at Geneva in 1802, and her letters,^ give us 
 some glimpses of Coppet. ' The family,' she writes, 
 ' is perfectly interesting. The tall figure, the noble 
 air, of Necker, are relieved by a kindliness which is 
 irresistible. A great observer, intellectual like his 
 daughter, he joins to these powers a delicacy and 
 depth of sentiment, and a variety of thought, which 
 fascinate me. I am deaf, but I have a sort of j^re- 
 sentiment of his thoughts, and he divines mine. 
 As 'for Madame de Stael — I have never seen any- 
 where a heart so superabundant in sentiment, a 
 soul of fire hke hers. The justness and celerity 
 of her observations, the richness of her ideas, her 
 eloquence, her intuition of truth, the energy of all 
 her being, equally excite my admiration and attract 
 my heart. With her I was under a serene sky ; 
 for she is so far from all that is limited, little, 
 or half-true, that frank souls abandon themselves 
 entirely to her, and find themselves in their true 
 element. Nothing is more touching tlian the love 
 of this father for his daughter, which is really 
 
 ^ Lettres sur Genece. Ge;ievii. ii.d.
 
 XVII. 
 
 Frederica Bruii. 293 
 
 passion itself, and the enthusiasm of the daugliter 
 for her fatlier. Their eyes, which I think are the 
 most beautiful in tlie world, express their mutual 
 allection. She is his dehght. Her vivacity kindles 
 his old age, and he is perfection to her. She is as 
 tender a mother as she is a good daughter. She 
 devotes much of her time to her three children.'. 
 
 Somewhat later, the enthusiastic Danish au- 
 thoress writes, ' The centre of our society is, as you 
 may well believe, our beloved Madame de Stael, 
 who, with all her goodness and energy, gathers us in 
 her heart. How attractive this creature is to my 
 daughters ! How they hang on her words ! With 
 what sweet sympathy her soul, full of love, abandons 
 itself to the purest animation ! It is necessary to 
 see it, it is necessary to feel it ; I cannot describe it. 
 The quintessence of the best society is found in her 
 mansion ; it is there by the law of affinity. At her 
 hearth one frequently sees, in a single evening, 
 more intellectual brilliancy than in many cities in 
 a whole year. Madame Necker de Saussure is 
 there — the dauschter of the m-eat man who ascended 
 Mont Blanc, and who is making scientific researches 
 in the Alps. She is the bosom friend of Madame 
 de Stael, and as worthy to be such as to bear the 
 name of Saussure. This amiable Genevese joins to 
 great force of mind, profound knowledge and clear 
 reason, extreme tenderness of heart, and a purity 
 of soul which paints itself on her beautiful and 
 noble features. One is attracted to her, as to an
 
 294 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 image of the Good and Beautiful of Plato. Madame 
 Eilliet-Huber is the friend of these two ladies. 
 She is lovable, sinrituelle^ so interesting, so deli- 
 cate and aerial, that one seems to see in her a 
 Psyche Avith black eyes full of love, and A\angs 
 ready for flight.^ She is full of poetical and thea- 
 trical talent, and has a treasure of original ma- 
 nuscripts, which her modesty withholds from the 
 pubhc. . . . We assisted at Madame de Stael's in 
 the representation of " Genevieve de Brabant," a 
 drama in three acts, composed by her, and played 
 by her, her children, and M. de Sabran. This piece, 
 sentimental and rehgious, bears the character of 
 its author ; it has the energy and purity of style 
 which characterise all her works. Every situation 
 in it is a picture.' Private theatricals are a fre- 
 quent entertainment of the brilliant society at the 
 chateau. Its hostess herself composed for these 
 occasions some six or seven dramas, which are 
 given in her collected works. 
 
 Prederica Brun alludes to Madame de Stael's 
 devotion to her children. Madame Necker de 
 Saussurc assures us that ' she was a very tender 
 mother,' and gave much of her time to their edu- 
 cation. Her daughter, the Duchess de Broglie, has 
 left a record of her own recollections of her mother 
 which illustrate particularly her maternal character. 
 ' My mother,' she says ' attached great importance 
 
 ^ My friend, Prof. Albert Rilliet de Candolle, of Geneva, has a 
 tnhnature portrait of her, taken in lier youth, and of exquisite beauty.
 
 XVII. 
 
 As a Mother. "295 
 
 to our happiness in infancy, and shared, with feehng, 
 our early troubles. Some of her conversations 
 with me, when I was hut twelve years old, were 
 adapted to me as if we were equals, and nothing 
 can give you an idea of the joy I experienced in 
 these confidential half-hour communino-s, I felt a 
 new hfe ; my soul was elevated, and received cou- 
 rage for all my studies. Her children always loved 
 her passionately. From the age of six years we 
 disputed who should be most loved by her ; an in- 
 timate conversation with one of us excited the 
 emulation of the others. It was a happiness to 
 one's heart, a compliment to one's self-respect, to be 
 near her. On Sundays she always read to us our 
 grandfather's discourses, his Course of Christian 
 Morals. She never wished to have a governess for 
 me, and she gave me lessons daily, in her times of 
 greatest trouble. The development of our minds 
 was such a pleasure to her, that her happiness in it 
 was our chief incentive to study. She endeavoured 
 to place herself, as earlj^ as possible, in a relation 
 of equality with her children ; and she would say 
 to them that she not only needed them for her 
 aifections, but that they could help her to sup- 
 port her trials ; she often consulted us in the dis- 
 tresses of her exile. I have heard her say to 
 Auguste, " I have need of your approbation." She 
 would speak to me of my life, and all her projects 
 regarding me, with perfect frankness. In certain 
 circumstances she would remark that one of her
 
 296 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 children was superior to herself in courage or de- 
 cision, and would show respect for his character ; 
 and yet we never ceased to respect her, and this 
 respect was always mingled with reverential fear. 
 Though she showed us the greatest confidence, yet, 
 from the moment she entered upon our lessons, we 
 felt this reverence, this fear. She showed great 
 scruples about us, reproaching herself for our faults, 
 and saying, " If you do wrong, not only shall I be 
 imhappy, but I shall suffer remorse." When she 
 blamed us, remarking that it was her own fault, 
 that she had failed to set us a good example, it 
 cut us to the heart. JSTothinor can ijive an idea of 
 the impression produced by the union of dignity 
 and confidence, of emotion and reserve, that there 
 was in her intimate intercourse with her children. 
 Her words, pronounced with restrained tears, were 
 engraved on our souls ; and the idea that we could 
 cause her to suffer, to reproach herself, became one 
 of the strong;est barriers a^jainst wronof doinsj. No 
 person has ever had more natural dignity than she ; 
 and tlierefore she could admit her children to the 
 greatest familiarity, and inspire them with pity for 
 her sufferings, without lessening their reverence. 
 Never has a mother been at once more confiding 
 and more imposing.' ^ 
 
 A writer who was a personal friend of Madame 
 de Stacl has given us some allusions to the interior 
 
 ^ In Madame Necker de Saussuro'3 Notice &c.
 
 XVII. 
 
 Life at Coppd. 297 
 
 of the chateau at this period.^ ' Necker,' he says, 
 ' after the death of liis wife, devoted his entire affec- 
 tion to his daughter. The hfe of the family was, 
 at first, somewhat grave. Its chief merit was in 
 the prodigious intellectual activity which prevailed 
 in the intercourse of Necker, Madame de Stael, and 
 Benjamin Constant wlio sojourned there. They 
 united for breakfast in the chamber of Madame de 
 Stael. This meal frequently lasted two hours, 
 for hardly had they met when she would start a 
 question in literature or philosophy. She avoided 
 pohtics out of deference to her father, whose poli- 
 tical memories were so painful. But, whatever 
 the subject, it was attacked Avith a vivacity and 
 a profundity which rendered the place a school for 
 Constant. Madame de Stael was always superior 
 to her father in these intellectual contests ; but, 
 when about to conquer, she would, with an inimi- 
 table grace, jdeld the palm to him, her filial 
 modesty crowning him with the glory. It was to 
 him alone, however, that she ever accorded this 
 advantage. From the breakfast each retired till 
 dinner, which passed witli no little ado between 
 Necker and some old maUres cFhotel, deaf and 
 grumbling remnants of the regime which he had 
 overthrown, and who had followed his fortunes 
 to Coppet in their embroidered costumes. After 
 dinner commenced Necker's game of Avhist with liis 
 
 '^ Frt-deric de Cliateauvieux in Mem. de la Duehesse (fAbraiitcSy 
 xvii. 8. Paris, 1832.
 
 298 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 daughter, always played with eagerness and tena- 
 city, and then conversation for the rest of the 
 evening. She thus devoted about eight years to 
 the happiness of her father, excepting intervals 
 spent in travelling. Meanwhile she educated her 
 children, devoting to them all the force of her 
 superior intellect. She wrote also, in this period, 
 those works which I consider examples of her 
 second manner — her Influence of the Passions, 
 Literature, and "Delj)hine." She later entered 
 into politics, and pubhshed her " Corinne " and her 
 great work on Germany. Her most vivid taste 
 during these times was for domestic theatrical 
 representations. These were her chief amuse- 
 ment. She was seconded in them by Count Elzear 
 de Sabran, Charles de Labedoyere, and Don Pedro 
 de Souza, now Marquis de Palmella. She had 
 an admirable voice and superior expression on 
 the stage. She especially excelled in souhrette 
 roles' 
 
 Sainte-Beuve says that what Ferney was to 
 Voltaire, Coppet was to Madame de Stael, but 
 ' with a much more poetic halo around it, and with 
 a nobler life. Both reigned in their exile, but 
 Coppet has counterbalanced Ferney and half de- 
 throned it. We of the young age judge Ferney 
 in descending from Coppet. The beauty of the site, 
 the woods which shade it, the sex of the poet, the 
 enthusiasm that we breathe there, the elegance of 
 the company, the glory of their names, the prome-
 
 XVII. 
 
 Life at Coppet. 299 
 
 nacles along the lake, the mornings in the park, 
 the mysteries and the passions that we may suppose 
 inevitable there, all combine to enchant us with the 
 image of this abode.' ^ Its greatest days were yet 
 to come ; but it was already rising before the eyes 
 of all Europe, not only as a refuge for the perse- 
 cuted, but as an intellectual pharos. Its discussions, 
 pohtical, philosophic, literary, conducted with the 
 highest conversational talent of the times, began 
 usually before eleven o'clock in the morning, at the 
 breakfast table, were resumed at dinner, were con- 
 tinued till supper at eleven o'clock at night, and 
 often did not end till after midnight. Manuscript 
 works were read, and the best poems of various lan- 
 guages recited, as weU as dramas acted by the 
 guests. The chateau became a little but a radiant 
 world of its own. Nevertheless its chatelaine stiU 
 longed for the greater world of Paris. Napoleon 
 had been declared Consul for life ; his peace with 
 England had lasted but one year, and he was 
 preparing to invade the island. She hoped to be 
 forgotten by him in the universal agitations of 
 France at this period, and she ventured again to 
 cross its boundary. 
 
 ' Critiques et Portraits Litteraires, iii.
 
 300 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 ^ 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 EXILE MADAME RECAMIER. 
 
 Madame de Stalil returns to France — Her Persecution by Bonaparte 
 — Madame Recamier — Her extraordinary Beauty and Character — 
 Her first Interview with Madame de Stael — The latter seeks 
 shelter with her — A. Gendarme takes charge of Madame de Stael 
 — Joseph Bonaparte — She departs for Germany — Madame de 
 Beaumont — Letter of Madame de Stael to Chateaubriand. 
 
 Madame de Stael approached the capital, in the 
 autumn of 1803, with timid misgivings. Her 
 Parisian friends had written to her tliat the Pirst 
 Consul was too much absorbed in his preparations 
 against England to notice her movements ; but she 
 instinctively knew him better than tliey : she knew 
 him to be as capable of personal revenge as of 
 ambition for empire. The sun has its spots, and 
 egotism is often the littleness of great men. If its 
 vanity may be harmless, or even amusing, its re- 
 sentments are nevertheless petulant and stinging. 
 Napoleon was its very impersonation. Madame de 
 Stael's father, who suffered intensely because he 
 had caused her to suffer, wished to go to Paris to 
 plead with liim for her, and to take to himself the 
 whole blame of his late book. She believed, at
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Return to Fra7tce. -JOI 
 
 first, that his age, his piibHc services, and his cha- 
 racter, might render him successful, but at Last 
 dechned his offer. ' When he saw me decided,' slie 
 says, ' not to accept it, I perceived how much it 
 would have cost Iiim. Fifteen months later I lost 
 my father: had he made the journey to Paris, I 
 should have attributed his sickness to this cause, 
 and remorse would have envenomed my wound.' ^ 
 The Consul Lebrun's letter to him, against 
 his book, had not pronounced her exile, but only 
 threatened it. She determined therefore to ven- 
 ture back alone, ' hoping,' she writes, ' that I might 
 be permitted to live some leagues from Paris, Avitli 
 the small number of friends who mig;ht be willinjj 
 to visit, at a distance, a person in disgrace.' She 
 took lodgings in a country house about ten leagues 
 from the city. It was soon reported to Bonaparte 
 that the roads were thronged by her visitors. 
 There was no truth whatever in the report, but he 
 seized it as a pretext for exiling her ; and one of 
 her friends conveyed to her warning that a gendarme 
 would probably be sent to her in a few days. She was 
 prostrated by anxiety. ' No one,' she says, ' who 
 lives in a land where the laws guarantee at least the 
 forms of justice, can conceive the alarm to which 
 the apprehension of such sudden, arbitrary acts of 
 the Government exposed the sufferer. I am easily 
 shaken ; my imagination has always been more fear- 
 ful than hopeful ; and though experience has taught 
 
 ^ Dix Amices, i. 11.
 
 302 Madame de Stael. ch, 
 
 me that most of our anxieties are readily dispelled 
 by new circumstances, yet it always seems to me, 
 when trouble is impending, that nothing can save me 
 from it.' She appealed to her friend De Gerando, 
 who, being in the service of the Government, might 
 exert some influence for her, at least with Talley- 
 rand, who owed, as we have seen, his own restora- 
 tion to France and office to her instrumentality. 
 ' I beseech you,' she wrote to the philosopher, ' come 
 to me immediately. I have to pray you to speak 
 a word for me to Talleyrand. My condition ought 
 to touch your heart. In the name of Mathieu [de 
 Montmorency], who suffers with me, come. I have 
 need to see you before you see M. de Champayne.' 
 De Gerando's efforts for her were unavaihng ; and 
 Talleyrand was too shrewd and too selfish to com- 
 promise himself with his new master in behalf of a 
 woman, whatever might be her merits or jiis obli- 
 <:fations to her. 
 
 She addressed to Napoleon an imploring but 
 indignant letter, ' I have hved in peace at Maffliers,' 
 she said, ' under the assurance that you have been 
 willing to give me that I could remain there, but 
 am told that a gendarme is about to appreliend me 
 with my children. Citizen Consul, I cannot beUeve 
 it. You would thus give me a cruel proof that I 
 shall have a line in your history. You will pierce 
 the heart of my venerable father, who would, I am 
 sure, in spite of his age, come to demand of you 
 what crime his family has committed, to incur sucli 

 
 xviii. Letter to Bonaparte. 303 
 
 barbarous treatment. If you wish that I should 
 leave France, give me a passport for Germany, and 
 grant me eight days at Paris, that I may obtain 
 moiiey, and consult a physician for my daughter, 
 six years old, whose health has been impaired 
 by travel. In no country on earth could such a 
 request be refused. Citizen Consul, it cannot 
 be in your heart to persecute a woman and her 
 children. It is impossible that a hero should not 
 be the protector of feebleness. I conjure you 
 again, allow me to hve in peace in my father's 
 liouse at St. Ouen ; it is sufficiently near Paris for 
 my son to follow his studies at the Polytechnic 
 School when the time shall come ; and sufficiently 
 distant for me not to be a resident of Paris. I will 
 depart in the spring, when the season shall render 
 travel possible for my children. In short, reflect. 
 Citizen Consul, a moment before infhcting so great 
 a suffering on a defenceless woman. You can, by 
 a single act of justice, inspire me with true and 
 lasting gratitude,' &c.^ 
 
 A member of the Government (Eegnault de 
 Saint Jean d'Angely) who knew Napoleon's designs, 
 risked his own interest by offering her an asylum, 
 but she was not wilhng to involve him in her mis- 
 fortunes ; he then directed her to the house of 
 Madame de la Tour — ' a truly good and intellectual 
 woman' — whom she had hardly known, but to 
 whom she hastened, ' bearing,' she says, ' a heart 
 
 ^ Coppet et Weimar, i. 28.
 
 P4 Madame de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 lacerated with sufFerino'. Diirino- the nig;ht, alone 
 with a woman who for years had been devoted 
 to my service, I listened for the approach of a 
 mounted (jendarme ; during the day I laboured to 
 control myself and to conceal from the company 
 my wretchedness. I felt, with despair, that I was 
 at last an exile, probably for a long time, j:)ossibly 
 for ever.' She wrote to her friends, Joseph and 
 Lucien Bonaparte ; they made every effort to save 
 her, but in vain. 
 
 Unable to bear this painful suspense, she re- 
 called with hope the image of a friend, the loveliest 
 woman, in soul as Avell as in person, then in Europe, 
 of whom Mathieu de Montmorency had said that 
 he ' loved her as an angel on earth,' one whose tran- 
 scendent beauty produced a sensation in the streets 
 wherever she passed ; converged upon her the gaze 
 of public assemblies, even when Napoleon himself 
 was spealdng ; and was excelled only by the grace 
 of her manners and the purity of her heart — a 
 woman who subdued the jealousy of women as well 
 as the passion of men, invincibly ' protected by the 
 halo of virtue which always surrounded her ; ' 
 whose ' presence anywhere was an event, and pro- 
 duced a tumult of admiration, of curiosity, of en- 
 thusiasm,' even the common people, in public places, 
 calling upon her with shouts to rise, that they might 
 pay their homage to beauty, in her person, — who, 
 when it was understood that she was to be a collec- 
 tor for a public charity at St. Eoche, found it im- 
 
 1
 
 XVIII. Madame Rdcamier. 305 
 
 possible to make lier way, without assistance, 
 through the throng that crowded tlie aisles, stood 
 upon chairs, hung upon the pillars, mounted even 
 the altars of the side chapels, and gave twenty- 
 thousand francs, more for the sight of her than 
 for the sacred design of the occasion, — who en- 
 chanted all men that beheld her, yet, by her moral 
 fascination, compelled them to abandon lower 
 hopes for her coveted esteem and her self-respect- 
 ful friendship,^ — who declined tlie proffered hearts 
 of princes, and even the possibility of a throne, 
 that she mio'ht maintain the oblio;ations of a 
 marriage of convenance, made Avhen she was but 
 fifteen years old, with a man who was forty- two ; 
 and who, when her opulent fortune was lost, and 
 after the Restoration had re-established the fac- 
 titious distinctions of societ}' , and even in old age 
 and bhndness, could still hold spell-bound, around 
 her, the elite society of Paris. ' She was,' says 
 
 ^ The younger Ampere was one among mauy examples: lie tut 
 twenty, she forty-three years old. Three Montmorencys — Mathieu, 
 the Duke de Laval, and his son — were his equally unsuccessful rivals. 
 Lucien Bonaparte's ardent passion for her is fully attested by his 
 letters in her memoirs. Chateaubriand's lifelong love for her, and 
 his offer of marriage in her old age, are well known. ' I know nothing 
 more beautiful or better than you,' he wrote her in her fifty-second 
 year. In his Memoires d'Outre-Tombe, tome viii., he says: 'Her 
 beauty mingled its ideal existence with the material facts of our 
 history — a serene light illuminating a picture of storms.' She managed 
 with admirable tact the passion of the young Ampere, for the direc- 
 tion of his studies, and the development of his genius. See Andre- 
 Marie Ampere et Jean-Jacques Am2>crc: Correspondnnce ei Souvenirs &c. 
 passtjn. 2 vols. Paris, 1875. 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 3o6 Madame de Stael. ch, 
 
 her iiiece and biographer, who knew her most in- 
 timate hfe, ' devoted, sympathetic, indulgent, self- 
 respectfuL You found with her consolation, 
 strength, balm for suffering, guidance in the great 
 resolutions of life ; she had a passion for goodness.' 
 ' She was,' says another authority, ' an incompar- 
 able being in all respects. Her charming quahties 
 had something so peculiar that they can never be 
 perfectly described. Only scattered traits of her 
 supreme grace can be given.' Napoleon himself 
 was smitten by her charms, and persecuted her, 
 through Fouche, with his importunities to induce 
 her to become a lady of his Court [dame de palais), 
 but she dishked the man, and declined the brilliant 
 offer. He seized the first opportunity of involving 
 her in the exile of Madame de Stael, compelhng her 
 to leave her family and tlie charmed circle of her 
 innumerable Parisian friends, and wander obscurely 
 in the southern provinces and Italy for years. It 
 was a remarkable coincidence that, in these dege- 
 nerate times, two women, one the most beautiful, 
 the otlier the most intellectual, in modern history, 
 should appear in the same country, and should be 
 united in an inseparable sisterhood. 
 
 ' Madame Eecamier,' says her biographer, ' gave 
 her heart to Madame de Stael. It was in her 
 nature to love passionately whatever she admired ; 
 and the premature death of the author of " Corinne " 
 left with her an immense void.' ^ They had met, 
 
 * Madame Lenormand's Souvmirs et Corresnondance de Madame
 
 XVIII. Madame Recamier. 307 
 
 for the first time, some three or four years before 
 our present date. ' Tliat day,' remarks Madame 
 Eecamier, ' was an epocli in my hfe — I was struck 
 by the beauty of her e5^es. I cannot describe what 
 I experienced. I was eager to divine who she was. 
 Addressing me with a bright and penetrating grace, 
 she uttered the name of Necker, her father : I 
 recognised Madame de StaeL I could not under- 
 stand the rest of her sentence ; I bhished and was 
 in extreme confusion ; she intimidated and yet 
 attracted me. My diffidence did not injure me. 
 She fixed her great ej^es on me, and with a curiosity 
 full of kindhness praised my features in a manner 
 irresistibly charming, especially as her compli- 
 ments escaped her spontaneously. One saw in her, 
 immediately, a being of a superior nature, but 
 perfectly natural. It was a sudden apparition in 
 my life ; the impression was so strong that I no 
 longer thought of anything but Madame de Stael, 
 so profoundly had I felt the influence of her power- 
 ful and ardent nature.' Her admiration was more 
 than reciprocated. Some years later, when her 
 fortune was wrecked by her husband's bankruptcy, 
 Madame de Stael wrote to her, ' Were it possible to 
 envy one whom I love, I should be willing to give all 
 that I am, to be you. Beauty unequalled in Europe, 
 reputation without a spot, character proud and 
 generous — what a happy fortune in this sad life ! > 
 
 Ricamier, passim, particularly tlie ' Avant-propos.' 2 vols. Paris, 
 1860. 
 
 i2
 
 3o8 Madame de Staei. ch. 
 
 Years later slie spoke of lier as ' an angel of beauty 
 and purity.' 
 
 Madame Eecamier was now living in a chateau 
 at Sainte-Brice, about two leagues from Paris, and 
 invited her friend to hasten thither for shelter. ' I 
 accepted her invitation,' writes Madame de Stael, 
 ' not supposing that my presence could injure a 
 person so unconnected with politics. The most 
 agreeable society was gathered under her roof, and 
 I enjoyed for the last time all that I was about to 
 lose.' After some da3^s spent tliere, without a 
 further intimation about her exile, she too readily 
 persuaded herself that she was safe and returned to 
 her country liouse, ' convinced that Napoleon ]iad 
 adjourned his resolutions ' against her, and was con- 
 tent to have merely excited her fears. But, while 
 at her table with some friends, she saw, through 
 the open window, a man in grey, on horseback, 
 stop at her gate and ring the bell. ' I was certain,' 
 she says, ' of my fate. It was a hue day in Sep- 
 tember. I received him in my garden ; the perfumes 
 of the flowers, the beauty of the sun, struck me ; 
 the sensations which come to us from the combina- 
 tions of society are so different from those which 
 come from nature ! This man told me that he was 
 the commandant of the gendarmerie at Versailles, 
 that he had been ordered not to wear his uniform, 
 that he might not alarm me ; he showed me a letter, 
 signed by Bonaparte, which exiled me to forty 
 leagues from Paris, and required me to depart 
 
 I
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Exiled. 309 
 
 within twenty-four hours.' A woman with her 
 children could not leave so suddenly. The gen- 
 darme^ a man of some politeness and literary tastes, 
 consented to accompany her and her children in 
 her carriage to Paris, and allow her three days for 
 her preparations. They stopped on the way, a 
 few moments, at the house of Madame Eecamier, 
 where she met General Junot (the Due d'Abran- 
 tes), who promised to intercede with Napoleon 
 for her. ' He did so with fervent urgency, but 
 failed.' Napoleon so far yielded to the entreaties of 
 Junot as to consent that she should reside at Dijon. 
 Madame Eecamier sent this permission, in a 
 letter addressed to the care of Camille Jordan 
 at Lyons ; but it was never received by her, and 
 could not have been acceptable if it had been 
 received ; for it insinuated conditions respecting 
 her future course wliich would have compromised 
 her intellectual independence.^ 
 
 She had previously hired a small house in a 
 quiet quarter of Paris, hoping to be able to retire 
 there in peace. ' I now went into it,' she writes, 
 ' with the certainty of soon leaving it ; I passed the 
 nights in running through its apartments, regretting, 
 even more than I had hoped, the happiness I was 
 losing. My (jendarme returned each morning, as 
 in the story of Blue Beard, urging me to depart the 
 next day. My friends came to dine with me, and 
 
 ^ Sainte-Beuve discovered this letter, years after her death, among 
 the papers of Camille Jordan. See Nouveaux Lundis, vol. xii.
 
 3IO Madajue de Stael. ch. 
 
 sometimes we were gay, as if to exhaust the cup of 
 sorrow, and be once more happy before parting. 
 They said to me that this man, coming each day to 
 summon me to depart, reminded them of the Eeign 
 of Terror, when the gendarnies came to the prisons 
 to call out their victims. On the last evening that 
 was accorded me, Joseph Bonaparte made yet one 
 more effort for me ; and his wife came to invite 
 me to spend some days in their country house 
 at Morfontaine. I went with gratitude, for I was 
 touched with the kindness of Joseph, who was 
 willing to receive me into his house while his 
 brother was persecuting me. I spent three days 
 there, but my situation was very painful. I 
 was surrounded by officers of the Government. 
 I knew not which way to turn. My father would 
 receive at Coppet, with inexpressible affection, his 
 poor bird beaten by the storms ; but I did not 
 wish to deepen his afflictions. I thought of Ger- 
 many, and spent two hours in the garden, one of 
 the most beautiful in Europe, considering what I 
 should do. I at last entreated Joseph to obtain 
 permission for me to go to Prussia without the 
 liability of interference from the French minister 
 there. He went to Saint Cloud for this purpose. I 
 was obliged to await his answer at a country tavern, 
 two leagues from Paris. I did not dare to return 
 to my house in the city. A day passed without his 
 answer. In order not to attract attention by re- 
 maining in tlie tavern, I made the tour of the wall
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Exiled. ^ 1 1 
 
 of Paris, seeking another inn within the prescribed 
 leagues, but on a different route. These wander- 
 ings, at a short distance from my city home and 
 my friends, caused me anguish which I cannot 
 describe. The chamber which I occupied now 
 reappears to my mind : tlie window where I passed 
 the whole day looking for the messenger ; a 
 thousand details which misery drags after it ; the 
 too great generosity of some friends, the selfish 
 calculations of others. My soul was kept in a 
 cruel agitation, such as I could not wish to be the 
 lot of any enemy. At last the message arrived. 
 Joseph had procured me liberty to depart for 
 Berlin, and sent me excellent letters of introduction, 
 accompanied by an adieu full of nobleness and 
 tenderness. Benjamin Constant generously offered 
 to accompany me, but I suffered from the sacrifice 
 which he made for me. Every step of the horses 
 sickened me ; and when the postilion boasted of 
 their high speed, I could not but sigh over the 
 service he was rendering me.' She hastened to 
 Chalons, Constant endeavouring to relieve her 
 dejection, on the way, by his ' astonishing con- 
 versation ; ' for in all France he alone was second 
 to herself in that talent. 
 
 They arrived at Metz, where she remained some 
 days, awaiting letters from her father. ' He was 
 indignant,' she says, ' at my treatment ; he saw his 
 family proscribed, and compelled to flee, as crimi- 
 nals, from a country which he had so faithfulb^
 
 1 2 Madavie dc Stael. 
 
 CH. 
 
 served.' Even the debt which it owed him for a 
 generous loan in the time of its utmost need, and 
 which had been acknowledged by the Govern- 
 ment, was still withheld by Napoleon. Necker 
 advised her to spend the winter in Germany, and 
 not return to Coppet till the next spring ; for who 
 could tell what severer measures might be taken 
 by Bonaparte, were she still within his immediate 
 reach ? 
 
 Her reputation had preceded her at Metz, and 
 she was received there with something like an 
 ovation. Count Colchen, the prefect of the Mo- 
 selle, hospitably entertained her ; constant ' soirees 
 and fetes were given in her honour,' and the elite 
 of a literary society of the city ' were pleased to 
 award her, at the moment in which she was about 
 to quit France witli so much regret, the homage 
 due to her genius and sufferings.' ^ She found there 
 Charles de Villers, her Kantian correspondent. She 
 wrote to De Gerando, ' I am awaiting here, my dear 
 De Gerando, letters from Strasbourg, before con- 
 tinuing my route. Send me, therefore, your letters 
 for Germany ; write me by every courier, for I wish 
 to remain but six days. What most pleases me 
 here is Villers, in whom I discover extraordinary 
 intellect, and I advise you to draw advantage 
 from this intellect, this winter ; he has all the 
 ideas of North Germany in his head. Without 
 Benjamin, I should have succumbed to my griefs. 
 
 " Baron de Gerando, Lettres Inedites &c.
 
 XVIII. Madame de Beaumont. 3 1 3 
 
 I have been able to sleep but little, and my mind is 
 full of painful apprehensions. Adieu ! my excel- 
 lent friend. Talk of me with Annette. I will write 
 to Camille by the next courier. My address at 
 Frankfort will be with the poor Maurice Bethman, 
 about whom we have smiled so much, Camille and 
 I, in my happy days.' 
 
 At Frankfort-on-the-Maine her sufferings were 
 redoubled by the dangerous illness of her daughter. 
 ' I knew no person in the city,' she writes. ' I did 
 not know the language ; and the physician to whom 
 I confided my child could not speak French. But 
 my father shared my trouble ; he consulted physi- 
 cians at Geneva, and sent me their prescriptions.' 
 ' Oh,' she exclaimed at the sick bed of her daughter, 
 ' what would become of a mother trembling for the 
 life of her child, if it Avere not for prayer ! ' 
 
 At Frankfort her sorrows were further aug- 
 mented by the news, from Chateaubriand, of the 
 death, in Eome, of one of her dearest friends, whom 
 we have met among her companions in the little 
 French colony at Mickleham, England — Madame 
 de Beaumont. She was a daughter of the lady who, 
 while Madame de Stael stood at a window in 
 Versailles, witnessing the procession of the States 
 General, admonished her of the coming disasters of 
 the Eevolution, and of M, de Montmorin, asso- 
 ciate of Necker in the ministry and a victim of the 
 September massacres. The mother and one of her 
 sons had perished, as we have seen, on the scaffold ;
 
 3 1 4 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 all the family, in short, had died prematurely except 
 Madame de Beaumont. It was through her affec- 
 tionate intimacy with this lady that Madame de 
 Stael had become acquainted with Chateaubriand, 
 then her only important literary rival in France. 
 The author of the ' Genius of Christianity ' had 
 found in the daughter of Montmorin a congenial 
 mind, a woman of culture and of vivid sensibility, 
 whose cruel afflictions had not only saddened, but 
 had ripened her soul. She suffered long from pul- 
 monary disease as well as from grief, but ' when- 
 ever a loving voice appealed to this solitary soul,' 
 says Chateaubriand, ' it responded in words from 
 heaven.' Madame de Stael could not but cling 
 tenaciously to such a woman. Chateaubriand's 
 letter was addressed to her at Coppet. Necker an- 
 swered it : 'Be not surprised,' he said, ' that you 
 do not receive Madame de Stael's response as 
 soon as you had a right to expect. You can be 
 very sure of the pain with which my daugliter will 
 learn the loss of a friend of whom I have always 
 heard her speak with profound feeling. I join in 
 her sorrow, I join in yours, for I have a particular 
 interest in it when I recall the unhappy fate of the 
 family of my friend Montmorin.' 
 
 On receiving Chateaubriand's letter, Madame de 
 Stael rephed in one which was thoroughly charac- 
 teristic of her ever overflowing heart, the empresse- 
 ment^ the abandon of her grief and her affections. 
 * Alas ! alas ! my dear Francis,' she exclaimed, ' with
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Chateaubriand. 315 
 
 what anguish am I seized on receiving your letter ! 
 Before it reached me, this frightful news reached 
 me through the journals, and your agonizing re- 
 cital now comes to engrave it for ever in letters of 
 blood on my heart. Can you — can you speak to 
 me of our differences of opinion about rehgion, 
 about priests ? Wliat are two opinions, when there 
 is only one sentiment ? I have read your letter 
 througli saddest tears. My dear Francis, recall the 
 time when you felt more friendship for me ; forget 
 not, above all, the days in which all my heart was 
 drawn towards you ; and assure yourself that those 
 sentiments, more tender and more profound than 
 ever, are still in the depth of my soul for you. 
 I love, I admire the character of Madame de 
 Beaumont. I have known no being more gene- 
 rous, more affectionate, more passionately tender. 
 Since I entered into society I have never ceased 
 to have relations with lier, and have felt, notwith- 
 standing some divergences of opinion, that I was 
 bound to her by all the fibres of my being. My 
 dear Francis, give me a place in your life ; I 
 admire you, I love you. I love her whom you 
 mourn ; I am a devoted friend, I will be to you a 
 sister. I ought more than ever to respect your 
 opinions ; Mathieu,'^ who entertains them, has been 
 an angel to me in my late sufferings. Give me a 
 new reason to respect them ; enable me to be 
 useful or agreeable to you in some way. Have you 
 
 ' Her Roman Catholic friend, Montmorency.
 
 o 
 
 1 6 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 been informed that I am exiled to forty leagues 
 from Paris ? I am now making a tour in Germany ; 
 in the spring I shall return to Paris, perhaps, if my 
 exile ends, or near Paris or Geneva. Manage that 
 we may meet again. Do you not feel that my 
 mind and my soul understand yours ; and that, 
 in spite of our differences, we resemble one another ? 
 M. de Humboldt writes me with admiration of your 
 work ; you ought to be flattered by the opinion 
 of such a man. But how dare I speak of your 
 success in such a moment ? Nevertheless, our lost 
 friend loved that success, and attached her own 
 glory to it. Continue to render her illustrious 
 who lias been so affectionate. Adieu, dear Francis. 
 I will write to you from Weimar. Alas, there is so 
 much that is heart-rending in your letter ! And 
 tliat resolution of keeping the poor Saint-Germain ;^ 
 you must bring her some day to my house. Adieu ! 
 tenderly, sorrowfully, adieu ! ' 
 
 Such a characteristic letter — in which the 
 woman's heart placed her mascuhne mind in 
 entire abeyance — could not fail to touch the soul 
 of the enthusiastic Chateaubriand. ' This letter,' he 
 says, in his old age, ' tliis eager, affectionate, rapid 
 letter, written by a celebrated woman, caused in me 
 redoubled tenderness. These, my comforters, have 
 both passed away ; and they now claim for them- 
 selves the regrets that they felt for one another ! ' ^ 
 
 ^ A woman in the service of Madame de Beaumont. 
 ® Memoires (VOutrc-Tomhe, iv.
 
 XVIII. Suffeinngs in Exile. 317 
 
 Chateaubriand's sentimental relations with Madame 
 Eecamier, prolonged through so many years after 
 the death of Madame de Stael and of nearly all 
 their old friends, kept her memory ever fresh in 
 their hearts and conversation. 
 
 She looked longingly towards Weimar, then 
 the intellectual centre of Europe — more brilhant 
 than Ferney had ever been, or Coppet was ever 
 to be — and hoped to find rest and consolation in 
 its tranquil httle world of elect minds. On the re- 
 covery of her daughter she fled towards it, as to a 
 city of refuge. Her persecutions had, however, 
 but begun. 'Having exiled her,' says her son, 
 ' first from Paris, then from France, after suppress- 
 ing by an arbitrary caprice her " Allemagne," and 
 making it impossible for her to pubhsh anything 
 whatever, however neutral in poHtics, the Govern- 
 ment was at last to make even her home a prison, 
 to interdict all travel, and to dej)rive her of the 
 pleasures of social life and the consolations of 
 friendshij).' ^ 
 
 Talleyrand had written to her from America, 
 that he should die if his exile were to continue 
 another year. 'What then,' she wrote him, ' do 
 you suppose must be my sufferings in my exile ? ' 
 She had procured his restoration ; he left her to 
 her fate. 
 
 ^ Preface, by Baron de Stael, to the Bix Annies (TExil.
 
 3 1 8 Madame de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 MADAME DE STAEL AT WEIMAK. 
 
 Weimar — The Ducliess Amelia — The Duke Charles Augustas — The 
 Intellectual Circle of Weimar — Wielaud, Goethe and Schiller — 
 The Duchess Louise — Letters of Goethe and Schiller respectinj^ 
 Madame de Stael — Her Estimates of Goethe, Schiller and Wie- 
 land — Life at AVeimar, 
 
 Madame de Stael arrived at Weimar in December 
 1803. 'There I took courage/ she writes, 'in 
 seeing what immense intellectual riches there were 
 beyond the limit of French literature. I learned 
 German ; I heard Goethe and Wieland, who, hap- 
 pily for me, spoke good French. I understood 
 the heart and genius of Schiller, notwithstanding 
 the difficulty of expressing himself in a foreign 
 language. The society of the Duke and Duchess 
 pleased me extremely, and I passed three months 
 there, during which the study of German literature 
 gave my mind the occupation and interest which 
 it needed to keep it from preying on itself.' ^ 
 
 No State in Germany was now better recog- 
 nised throughout the literary world than the little 
 Duchy of Saxe-Weimar with its two hundred thou- 
 
 ^ Dix Annees &c. i. 12.
 
 XIX. Goethe and Schiller. 319 
 
 sand inhabitants, its capital Weimar with but ten 
 thousand, and its university town of Jena with but 
 five thousand. Weimar was, in fact, the capital of 
 intellectual Europe. One of the most admirable of 
 women, the Duchess Ameha, had secured for it this 
 pre-eminence. Though a widow at nineteen years 
 of age, she ruled her small dominion with rare 
 wisdom. She saw that there was one, and but 
 one, way of rendering it prominent among the 
 larger states around it — she could make it intellec- 
 tually great. She called Wieland to Weimar, as 
 preceptor of her son, Charles Augustus ; she 
 gathered in her little court eminent writers, artists, 
 and actors. Herder, one of the most vigorous and 
 splendid minds of the German pulpit of the times, 
 was appointed preacher of Weimar, and, under the 
 faithful protection of the Duchess, became a com- 
 manding authority in the literary circle of the 
 Court. Knobel, Seckendorf, Boettinger, and others 
 were attracted to it by her patronage. Her son, 
 to whom she surrendered the government in 1775, 
 had been so imbued with her spirit as to follow 
 spontaneously and even enthusiastically her policy 
 of making his capital, otherwise so insignificant, 
 powerful and for ever historical in the literary 
 world. While travelling in Germany in the last 
 year of his minority, he found Goethe in his paren- 
 tal home at Frankfort. The young poet was be- 
 coming famous by his ' Werther ' and his recently 
 published ' Goetz von Berlichingen.' Their friend-
 
 ^20 Aladanie de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 ship immediately became intimate, and, on assuming 
 the government, the Duke chiimed him for Weimar, 
 where he was the reigning genius during the re- 
 mainder of his long hfe. In 1787 Schiller entered 
 the circle, and formed with Goethe a friendship 
 which will be for ever memorable in literary 
 history. They were destined to be the two most 
 brilliant stars in the poetic firmament of Germany. 
 By the marriage of the Duke to the Princess Louise 
 of Hesse, a woman every way befitting her position 
 was placed at the head of the Court by the side 
 of the Duchess Ameha. She became the ardent 
 friend and life-long correspondent of Madame de 
 Stael.2 
 
 Before the arrival of the French authoress, her 
 approach had been intimated by letters from 
 Frankfort ; and the Court circle, tliough curious to 
 see the most eminent literary woman of the age, 
 anticipated her coming with considerable anti- 
 French prejudice ; for German criticism and egotism 
 had already begun to disparage alike French litera- 
 ture and French politics. Goethe was absent, at 
 Jena, pursuing his favourite scientific researches. 
 Schiller wrote to him that ' Madame de Stael is at 
 Frankfort, and we may expect to see her soon. Pro- 
 vided she understands German, we may enjoy her 
 visit ; but to have to explain our rehgion, and 
 contend with French volubility, may be a hard task. 
 We may not be as successful as Schelhng was with 
 
 "^ Coppet et Weimar. Paris, 1862.
 
 XIX. Godhc a7ia Schiller. 321 
 
 Camille Jordan, who came armed caji-a-pie wdtli 
 tlie principles of Locke. " I despise Locke," said 
 Sclielling, and his adversary was smitten dumb.' 
 Goethe ratlier dreaded her noted conversational 
 powers, and made no haste from Jena. Schiller 
 Avrote to Korner (Jan. 4, 1804) : 'The piece ' — 
 ' William Tell ' — ' which I have promised to the 
 Berlin theatre for the end of February, entirely 
 absorbs me, and behold, Satan has led to me the 
 female French Philosopher who of all creatures 
 living is the most animated, the most ready for com- 
 bat, and the most fertile in words. But she is also 
 the most cultivated, the most spirituelle of women, 
 and if she were not really interesting, I would 
 not be disturbed by her. You can well suppose 
 how such an apparition, such a spirit, placed on the 
 summit of French culture — so entirely opposed to 
 ours — and arriving here suddenly from the centre 
 of another sort of world, must be in contrast with 
 the German nature, and especially with mine. 
 She dispels from me all poetry, and I am asto- 
 nished that I am able to do anything. I see her fre- 
 quently and as I speak French imperfectly I really 
 have some hard hours to pass. One is obliged, 
 nevertheless, to esteem and highly honour this 
 woman, for her remarkable intelligence and her 
 liberal spirit.' Goethe, hesitating at Jena, WTote to 
 Schiller : ' I leave entirely to you to arrange in 
 the best manner you can all that concerns Madame 
 de Stael. If she wishes to come hither to see me, 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 32 2 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 she sliall be welcome, and, provided I am warned 
 twenty-four hours in advance, she shall find an 
 apartment well furnished, and good little dinners. 
 In this manner we can readily see one another and 
 talk together, and she can remain as long as she 
 wishes. My occupations retain me only at brief in- 
 tervals ; the rest of my time shall be given to her. 
 But travel to Weimar, make my toilet, go to Court 
 and into society — this is impossible: I positively 
 declare it.' Schiller replied : ' Madame de Stael 
 will doubtless appear to 3^ou what you have a 
 priori imagined her to be. All in her is of one 
 piece. In spite, therefore, of the difference between 
 her nature and ours, one fpels at ease with her ; 
 we can bear anything from her, and feel at liberty 
 to say anything in reply. She is the representative, 
 as perfect as interesting, of the true Frencli spirit. 
 In all that we call philosophy— that is to say, on 
 subjects of the very highest character — I am in op- 
 position to her, and maintain this antagonism in 
 spite of her eloquence. But with her nature and 
 sentiment are paramount to all metaphysics, and 
 elevate her spirit even to genius itself. Wishing to 
 explain all, to comprehend all, to measure all, she 
 admits nothing to be impenetrable, and whatever 
 the liuht of reason cannot make clear does not 
 exist for her. Hence her insurmountable aversion 
 for the idealistic philosophy ; she sees in it only 
 the road to mysticism and superstition. The 
 poetic spirit is wanting in her entirely ; she can
 
 XIX. 
 
 Schiller. 32; 
 
 appreciate, in poetical works, only their passion and 
 eloquence. She never approves what is false, but 
 cannot always appreciate what is true. In spite of 
 my poor French, we understand one another fairly ; 
 but, as you speak the language perfectly, I doubt 
 not your conversation with her will have much 
 interest for both of 5'ou.' 
 
 Candid and cordial as Schiller's judgment was, 
 it was premature in some respects. She did not 
 reject the Ideal Philosophy, but only its abuses. 
 In the ' Allemagne ' she defends it against Locke 
 and the French materialists. Her remarkable 
 analysis of Kant ^ (more remarkable, however, as a 
 criticism than as an analysis) is a vindication of it ; 
 her next chapter, chiefly on Schelling and Fichte, 
 is an exposure of its abuses. She beheved in 
 Christian spiritualism, and had, as we have seen, no 
 little sympathy with Christian mysticism. Schil- 
 ler's imperfect knowledge of tlie French language 
 led him, probably, to misapprehensions of her 
 opinions ; and, as she was now only beginning her 
 studies of the German mind, she ma}^ have dealt 
 more in objections than in concessions, as the best 
 means of eliciting the trutli. As to her apprecia- 
 tion of poetry, had Schiller lived long enough to 
 read the 'Allemagne,' he would have applauded 
 with enthusiasm her splendid discussions on that 
 subject, and wished no better criticisms on his own 
 
 ^ Allemagne, iii. G. 
 X 2
 
 324 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 works.* Not a few of her critics erred, in like 
 manner, regarding her appreciation of the fine 
 arts, till the publication of ' Corinne ' conclusively 
 refuted their opinion. 
 
 The Duke at last ordered Goethe to appear at 
 Court, in order to meet her. She was impressed by 
 the greatness of his genius, though she dishked his 
 cool scepticism, and mistook his philosophic self- 
 control for decay of the passionate ardour of his 
 early works, especially of his ' Werther.' ' He is a 
 man,' she writes,^ ' of prodigious spirit in conversa- 
 tion. His eloquence is strong with thought, his 
 pleasantries full of grace and philosophy. His ima- 
 gination is struck by external objects, as was 
 that of the classic artists, and nevertheless his 
 reason has the maturity of modern times. Nothing 
 disturbs the strength of his intellect.' ' But,' she 
 adds, ' he no longer has the ardour which pervades 
 his " Werther," though the warmth of his thoughts 
 still somewhat animates him. One would say that 
 he describes only as a painter — that he values 
 more the pictures which he presents than the 
 emotions he feels ; time has rendered him a S2:)ec- 
 tator. When he had an active part in the scenes 
 of the passions, when he suffered in his own heart, 
 his writings produced a more vivid impression. 
 At first sight, one is astonished to perceive the cold- 
 ness and even rigidity of Goethe, but as soon as he 
 
 ■* AUemagne, passim, particularly cli. x., xi., and xii. 
 5 Ihid, ii. 7.
 
 XIX. Goethe. 325 
 
 is at ease with 3-011 liis imagination inspires him- 
 His mind is universal, and impartial because it 
 is universal ; and there is no indifference in his 
 impartiality. His is a double existence, a double 
 force, a double light which illuminates at the same 
 time both sides of a question. He represents in 
 himself the principal traits of German genius — pro- 
 fundity of ideas ; grace born of the imagination, 
 and therefore more original than that which is in- 
 spired by the spirit of society; and finally sensibility, 
 sometimes fantastic, but by this very fact the more 
 interestino; to readers who seek in books somethino- 
 to vary their monotonous being, and who would 
 have poetry hold for them the place of real events.' 
 If she admired Goethe as greatest in genius, she 
 admired Schiller more, for both his genius and 
 character. ' I first saw him,' she says,*^ ' in the 
 salon of the Duke and Duchess of Weimar, in pre- 
 sence of a company as cultivated as imposing. He 
 could read French very well, but had never spoken 
 it. I maintained, with warmth, the superiority of 
 our dramatic system over all others ; he did not 
 •dechne the combat, and, without embarrassment 
 from the difficulties and slowness with which he had 
 to speak in French, without fearing the opinions 
 of the auditors Avliich were contrary to his own, 
 his intimate convictions gave him utterance. To 
 defeat him, I used at first the customary French 
 arms, vivacity and pleasantry ; but very soon I un- 
 
 ^ AllemagnCy ii 8,
 
 326 Madame dc Stacl. ch. 
 
 ravelled from the obstacles of his French sentences 
 so many ideas, I was so struck by the simplicity of 
 his character, I found him so modest, so impartially 
 indifferent about his own success in the contest, so 
 proud and animated in the defence of what he 
 believed the truth, that I felt for him, from this 
 moment, a friendship full of admiration. He was 
 a man of rare genius and of perfect good faith : two 
 quahties wliich ought to be inseparable in a man of 
 letters ; for thought can be placed in equality Avith 
 action only when it awakens in us the image of the 
 truth, and falsehood is more disgusting in writings 
 than in conduct. Schiller was as admirable among 
 us for his virtues as for his talents. Conscience was 
 his muse. He loved poetry, the dramatic art, 
 history, literature, for themselves. Nothing could 
 make him alter his writings, because his writings 
 were himself ; tliey expressed his soul, and he could 
 not conceive the possibihty of changing an expres- 
 sion, if the interior sentiment which it conveyed 
 had not chanijjed. It is a beautiful thing — tliis in- 
 nocence in genius, this candour in strength. Schil- 
 ler did himself wrong at iiis entrance into the 
 world by the errors of his imagination ; but with 
 the force of age he attained that sublime purity 
 which is born of hio-h thoui^hts. He was the best 
 of friends, of fathers, of husbands ; no one good 
 quality failed in his sweet and serene character. 
 Attacked while yet young by a hopeless malady, 
 his children, his wife, who merited by a thousand
 
 XIX. 
 
 Wielaiid. 327 
 
 touching qualities the attachment that lie had for 
 her, consoled his last days,' 
 
 . Wieland was especially agreeable to her : his 
 French characteristics pleased her national preju- 
 dices, though they were critically objectionable ; 
 for she had the good sense to approve the aim of 
 the Weimar coterie at originahty — a purely na- 
 tional literature. ' Wieland,' she says, ' is the only 
 German who has written in the French manner 
 with real genius.' German writers had generally 
 and servilely followed the French hterature of the 
 time of Louis Xr\^. ; Wieland was the first to intro- 
 duce that of the eighteenth century. In his prose 
 works is traceable the influence of Voltaire ; in his 
 poetry, that of Ariosto ; but his spirit is essenti- 
 ally German. He is infinitely better informed than 
 Voltaire ; he has studied the ancients more pro- 
 foundly than any French poet has done. He lacks 
 the lighter graces of the French, and this failure is 
 attributable both to his talents and his faults. His 
 conversation had for her ' great charms,' and pre- 
 cisely because his natural quahties were in opposi- 
 tion to his philosophy. This discordance might 
 injure him as a writer, but rendered his conversa- 
 tion piquant ; lie was animated, enthusiastic, and, 
 ' like all men of genius, still young in old age.' 
 He is both a German poet and French philosopher, 
 and the one character disagrees with tlie other. 
 ' The new German writers, who would exclude 
 foreign influence from their literature, have been
 
 o 
 
 28 Madame de StaeL ch. 
 
 unjust towards \\\\\\. His works, even in transla- 
 tions, have excited the interest of all Europe ; he 
 has made antiquity contribute special charms to 
 modern literature ; lie has given, in verse, to liis 
 fruitful but rude language a musical and graceful 
 flexibility. It is nevertheless ti-ue that it has been 
 unfortunate for his country tluit lie has had so 
 many imitators. Kational originality is preferable. 
 Wieland is a great master, but he should be a mas- 
 ter Avithout disciples.' 
 
 Herder had died before her arrival at Weimar ; 
 Schiller and Goethe were now conspicuous in its 
 intellectual constellation, with a radiance Avhich 
 streamed over Europe. The Ducliess Louise, after- 
 wards lier faithful correspondent, presided in the 
 learned salon witli perfect grace. ' She is a true 
 model of a woman destined b}^ nature to the most 
 illustrious rank. Without pretension as without 
 feebleness, slie inspires in tlie same degree confi- 
 dence and respect ; and the heroism of tlie days of 
 chivalry lias entered into her soul, without injuring 
 the tenderness of her sex.' Tlie Duke is described 
 as a man of military talents, and of piquant and 
 thoughtful conversation, Avliich reminded the lis- 
 tener that he had been formed hj the Great 
 Frederick. 
 
 Her three months spent at Weimar were full 
 of interest, and relieved, for the time, the sadness 
 of her exile. She disliked small cities, as re- 
 strictive of talent, and as scenes of gossip and
 
 XIX. The Weimar Court. 329 
 
 small talk ; but ' Weimar,' she says, ' is not a little 
 city ; it is a grand chateau, where a chosen circle 
 entertains itself with every new production of the 
 arts ; where w^omen, amiable disciples of great men, 
 are constantly occupied Avith literary Avorks, as Avith 
 important public CA^ents. They gather the AAdiole 
 Avorld around them, by reading and study ; they 
 escape, by their range of thought, from the limita- 
 tions of their circumstances. In reflecting together, 
 habitually, on the general questions common to the 
 destiny of all, they forget the particular facts or 
 anecdotes of each. One sees there none of those 
 petty tendencies Avliich characterise provincial life 
 and substitute affectation for elegance.' 
 
 Before leaving Weimar, she had conceived the 
 design of her ' AUemagne,' and AA^'ote to De Gerando : 
 ' When Ave meet, ^^ou A\dll have to aid me in a part 
 of a Avork that I propose to AA^ite on Germany. 
 I have studied, and shall still study, the ncAv philo- 
 sophic and aesthetic systems of Kant, Schelling, 
 Schlegel, &c., and I Avisli to giA'e an analysis 
 of them. I must first, hoAvever, read wdiat you 
 have Avritten on them. I do not pretend to Avrite 
 metaphysics ; but, to giA'e an estimate of the cha- 
 racter of the Germans and of the spirit Avhich dis- 
 tinguishes their literature, it Avill be requisite to 
 give a simple and popular vicAV of their philosophic 
 theories. Apropos of this, Avhat do you make of 
 Villers? For tAvo months I liaA'e had no ucavs of him. 
 He is a little like the Germans, Avhose enthusiasm
 
 Madame de Staci. 
 
 CH. 
 
 is too exalted to endure. I find, liowever, no 
 diminution in the extreme kindness and attentions 
 of these good Germans towards me ; and I have 
 akeady letters from Berlin full of cordial interest. 
 I have seen a great deal of Scliiller and Goethe. 
 Goethe is an extraordinary man in conversation. 
 They tell me here that Camille Jordan never saw 
 him in his best humour ; in this case, he cannot 
 know liim. Tliis Camille is, by the way, an un- 
 vv^orthy idler — not a word from him for two 
 months ! I am going, in four days, to Berhn. By 
 force of reflection I support hfe in spite of exile, 
 but my heart is always oppressed. A thousand 
 tender thoughts for Annette ; and for Juliette,'' who 
 loves me still, I hope, and of wliom I speak every- 
 where with love ; I say everywhere, for she is very 
 celebrated. As to Annette, she has concentrated 
 her happiness in you and her son ; neither calumny 
 nor praise reach her.' 
 
 ^ Madame Recamier.
 
 XX. 
 
 Court of Berlin. 331 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 BERLIX RETURX DEATH OE XECXER. 
 
 Madame de Stael at Berlin — Her Reception at Court — Its Pageantries 
 — Kotzebue — Augustus William Sclilegel — Execution of the Due 
 d'Enghien — Death of Necker and lleturn of Madame de Stael — 
 Effect of his Death on her — Iler Publication of his ' Manuscripts ' 
 — Society at Coppet — She departs for Italy, 
 
 Madame de Stael went from Weimar to Berlin, 
 where letters from the Duke and Duchess procured 
 her the most flattering reception at Court, especially 
 from the Queen Louise, whose beauty and more 
 charming quahties, as well as her subsequent mis- 
 fortunes, have won for her the sympathies of the 
 world. The contrast between the two Courts — 
 the tranquil literary habits of the one, the gay and 
 hardly intermitted pageantries of the other — was 
 far from agreeable to her. She now wrote to the 
 Duchess of Weimar the first letter of their long 
 correspondence. ' It seems to me,' she says, ' that 
 I owe you an account of my hfe at Berlin, since it is 
 to your Highness and the Duke that I am indebted 
 for the welcome I have received here. I was pre- 
 sented on the 10th of March (1804) to the Queen- 
 mother ^ and to the reigning Queen. I find the 
 
 ' Widow of Frederick William IT.
 
 332 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 former very affable. I had been told that she 
 speaks in a confused manner, but I understand her 
 perfectly ; and her remarkable politeness, inspired 
 by your letter, has rendered very delightful the 
 moments she has graciously accorded me. She 
 complains to me that your Highness never comes 
 to Berhn, and she has planned a visit, for herself, 
 to Weimar this summer. After my interview with 
 her I visited the reigning Queen, and on this day 
 the Court was truly imposing. At the moment 
 the Queen entered, the band struck up. I Avas 
 deeply moved. The Queen appeared in the full 
 splendour of her beauty. She approached me and 
 said, among many other gracious phrases, these 
 words, which I cannot readily forget : " I hope, 
 Madame, that you believe us to have sufficient good 
 taste to be flattered by your visit to Berlin ; I have 
 been impatient to see you." All the Princesses 
 whom I saw at Weimar, and who love me because 
 you do, hastened to embrace me. The King spoke 
 very graciously to me. I was surrounded with kind 
 attentions and was deeply touched. But, above all, 
 I heard them repeat that I was loved at Weimar, 
 and I perceived by certain indications that it was 
 Weimar which had given me importance here. 
 The Princess of Orange has impressed me as very 
 gracious. Her husband and the Prince Eadziwill 
 called on me the very next morning after my arrival. 
 Everybody here has been tliinking, for twenty days, 
 only of the masquerade : rehearsals, costumes,
 
 XX, Cottrt of Berlijt. 333 
 
 ballets, fill all heads ; and, by arriving a little late 
 at Berlin, I have lost nothing but a more intimate 
 knowledge of steps of the ballet, executed yester- 
 day. We remained till three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, to see the Queen dance in a pantomime which 
 represented the return of Alexander to Babylon. 
 There were two thousand spectators : the pomp of 
 the costumes and the beauty of the figures w^ere 
 truly remarkable. Many quadrilles followed, and 
 Kotzebue' entered as a priest of Mercury — or rather 
 perhaps as Mercury himself — a crown of poppies on 
 his head, a caduceus in his hand, and ugly and dis- 
 gusting to such a degree, that, to use the words 01 
 Goethe, " it is inconceivable that one's imaoination 
 should not be degraded by his image, for life." Ah ! 
 "Weimar, Weimar ! All these apings of French 
 manners appear so foreign to the genuine merits of 
 the Germans ! It is not an imitation of Paris that I 
 like to find abroad ; it is original, native character. 
 In short, in two months I will be back Avitli your 
 Highness ; it seems to me that I should be already 
 with you. I am to dine with the Prince Louis, at 
 Madame de Berg's. Afterwards I will give you my 
 impressions more in detail ; for tiU now nobody has 
 been able to talk with me except about ballets. 
 Pardon the confusion of this letter. I write on 
 awaking, my head filled with the sounds of cymbals 
 and trumpets.'^ 
 
 ^ The dramatic author and courtier, who was assassinated by the 
 student Sand. 
 
 * Coppet et Weimar, ii.
 
 334 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 At Berlin began her friendsliip with Augustus 
 WiUiani Schlegel, tlie greatest critic of his age. 
 His learning was prodigious, even for a German. 
 An exact classical scholar, he was also familiar 
 with all the literatures of modern Europe ; and, in 
 every department of his multifarious knowledge, 
 he was a critical, if not an indisputable authority. 
 He was a poet of high merit. As a linguist he 
 was of the first order, and, not only one of the very 
 earhest leaders in Sanscrit and Indo-European 
 studies, but he became an oracle of them, consulted 
 by scholars from Paris, Oxford, Cambridge, and all 
 places where that ne^vly opened but marvellously 
 fruitful field of research Avas cultivated. He was 
 at home in mediieval literature, and contributed 
 effectively to its just appreciation by modern 
 students. With his vast acquisitions he combined 
 the insio;ht, and, it must be acknowledged, some of 
 the infirmities of genius. He could be malicious ; 
 in his old age he was vain, and even pedantic ; but 
 remained, nevertheless, a supreme authorit3\ He 
 was withal a superior talker, and Madame de 
 Stael, who ever liked a rival in this brilliant faculty, 
 was irresistibly attracted to him. She received 
 him into her family as instructor of her children, 
 where he remained many years, liberally com- 
 pensated by a salary of twelve thousand francs, 
 with abundant leisure for his literary labours, op- 
 portunities for extensive travel with his patroness, 
 and the freedom and luxuries of an opulent home.
 
 XX. 
 
 Death of Necker. 335 
 
 Madame de Stael remained six weeks in Berlin, 
 the idol of its higliest society. It was there that 
 she first heard of one of the foulest crimes of her 
 persecutor — one which the world will never for- 
 give nor palliate, and which might well add to 
 the intensity of her apprehensions of his growing 
 power and his personal enmity against herself. 'I 
 lived,' she says, ' on the cpiay of the Spree, and my 
 apartments were on the ground floor. I was 
 awakened carl}^ one morning, and told that Prince 
 Louis Ferdinand^ was on horseback under my 
 window, with important news for me.' It was the 
 news of the execution of the Due d'En2:hien. 
 ' What folly ! ' she exclaimed, ' it is a false report, 
 started by the enemies of France.' The Prince 
 sent her the ' Moniteur,' reporting the 'judgment,' 
 and the terrible crime could not be doubted. It 
 struck her, as it struck all Europe, with astonish- 
 ment and liorror. She hastened to Vienna. A 
 letter from ]ier father, the last she ever received 
 from him, denounced in the strongest terms the 
 murder of the Duke, but assured her of his own 
 continued health. Two letters soon followed, in- 
 timatino; his dano-erous illness. The courier 
 who brought them actually knew that he was 
 dead ; the sad news was withheld from her, but she 
 instinctively surmised it. She wrote to the Duchess 
 
 ■* Who fell gallantly, two years later, at the battle of Saalfeld, 
 aud whose brother, Prince Augustus, found an asylum at Coppet, 
 and was smitten there with a life-long passion for Madame Recamier.
 
 ^,1,6 Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 of Saxe-Weimar : ' I am o-oing; home — leavino- 
 Yiemia, where my happiness ends. I preserve for 
 you the most tender gratitude. If I return to hfe, 
 I will return to you, but every day will deepen the 
 wound of which I may die, sooner or later. Sym- 
 pathise with me in your palace, in your noble 
 solitude. Think sometimes of the broken heart in 
 which the memory of you will still hve.' 
 
 She immediately directed her course homeward. 
 On the route her father's death was revealed to 
 her. ' A sentiment of inexpressible terror,' she sa3's, 
 ' was joined to my despair. I saw myself without 
 support on earth, forced to sustain my soul by my 
 own little stren2:th aojainst the misfortunes of life. 
 I felt that thenceforward my heart could no more 
 be happy as it had been ; and no day has passed, 
 since April 1804, in Avhich I have not referred all 
 my sufferings to this event.' 
 
 All the strength of that unsurpassed fihal affec- 
 tion which had bound her to her father now burst 
 forth in convulsive agonies. Madame JSTecker de 
 Saussure received from her a letter of ' twelve pages, 
 exceeding all imagination in its frightful, terrible, 
 and yet touching wailings.' Accomjianied by her ' 
 husband, and the youngest son of Madame de Stacl, 
 she set out to meet her ; they found her at Zurich 
 in profound suffering, and conducted her homeward. 
 ' I will not describe,' says her cousin, ' the cruel 
 scenes which followed. It is not when grief 
 overwhelms the soul that genius is recognisable.
 
 XX. Love for her Father. 2ili7 
 
 The violent sufferings of a desolate heart are the 
 same with all our poor human race. On this 
 journey, it was only in brief intervals, of calm- 
 ness, that I could recognise the real Madame de 
 Stael, and never have I been more struck with 
 what was marvellous in her nature than in these 
 intermissions of her anguish. When the exhaustion 
 of suffering had subdued her violent emotions, she 
 entreated us to converse in the carriage, apparently 
 because the sound of words helped her to command 
 herself. She indicated to Schlegel a subject for 
 discussion. He developed a great quantity of novel 
 ideas, and, when the conversation became animated, 
 she sometimes suddenly launched into it, resuming 
 all her talents. Speaking of Germany, of men, of 
 systems, of society, she displayed a fire of thought 
 and a beauty of language altogether extraordinary ; 
 a thousand splendid pictures succeeding one another, 
 until, reseized by violent grief, she sank again under 
 the thought of her bereavement. It was hke the 
 illumination of lightning in a storm, suddenly 
 extinguished by winds and rain. Her thoughts 
 could not be completely distracted ; even when 
 most carried away by our discussions, a trembling, 
 a contraction of the lips, showed that she had not 
 ceased to suffer, and that she spoke under the weight 
 of her grief. In the midst of her desolation, M'hen 
 we arrived at Coppet, singular affections of the ima- 
 gination seized her ; she sunk under a sort of ver- 
 tigo. Behcving that she had lost the guardian of all 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 Madame dc Stacl. ch. 
 
 that was necessary to her being, it seemed to her 
 that the general ties of all things were dissolved. 
 She imagined that her fortune would be lost ; that 
 her children would never be educated ; that he]- 
 j^eople would no longer obey her ; that nothing 
 could go on without her father.' ' I have lost my 
 father ! ' was her exclamation in answer to every 
 remonstrance. The strong brain was overwhelmed 
 by the stronger heart. ' It would be necessary,' 
 continues her cousin, ' to describe each day of her 
 hfe, at this time, if we would show the place of her 
 father in her heart. Slie never ceased to Hve with 
 him ; she always felt herself protected, consoled, 
 succoured by him. Later she invoked him in her 
 prayers, and no happy event occurred without her 
 saying " My father has obtained this for me." ' She 
 bore his miniature on her person the remainder of 
 her hfe. It Avas an object of superstition to her ; 
 only once did she part with it ; she imagined that it 
 might console her daughter in a period of sickness 
 as it had consoled herself, and, giving it to her, said, 
 ' Gaze upon it, gaze upon it, when you are in pain.' ^ 
 Necker died after an illness of nine days, in- 
 voking, with his hand upon his failing heart, bless- 
 ings upon his absent daughter, and repeating many 
 times, with all his remaining force, ' She has loved 
 me dearly ! She has loved me dearly ! ' His last 
 words were, ' Great God, my Judge and my Saviour, 
 receive Thy servant, hastening down to death.' 
 
 ^ Ao^tce&c. ii.
 
 XX. Neckers Character. 339 
 
 On his death-bed he had written, with a 
 trembhng hand, a letter to Bonaparte, assuring him 
 that his daughter was not responsible, in any way, 
 for his last book, and entreating him to have com- 
 passion on her sufferings. This last letter, from 
 the dying hand of one of the most notable men of 
 the times, in behalf of his only child, tlie most 
 notable woman of the times, was received by 
 Napoleon, but was treated with silent contempt.^ 
 ' Magnanimity,' she says, alluding to his conduct in 
 this instance, ' magnanimity always appeared to him 
 affectation, and he spoke of it as melodramatic. 
 Had he been able to appreciate the ascendency of 
 this virtue, he would have been both a better and 
 an abler man.' 
 
 A good man, and in many respects a great man 
 — one of the few who have not been corrupted by 
 wealth or power — Necker, after a long and stormy 
 life, found peace at last amid the tranquil scenery 
 of the family cemetery at Coppet, where he Avas laid 
 to rest by the side of his remarkable wife, at whose 
 grave he had not failed, during ten years, daily 
 to meditate and pray. His daughter placed on 
 their tomb a touching bas-relief, by Canova, repre- 
 senting a being, aerial as if already glorified, lead- 
 ing towards the sky another figure, which looks 
 back compassionately on a young woman wlio is 
 veiled and prostrate on a grave. 
 
 Time, which rectifies all things, will probably, 
 
 ^ I>ix Annces, i. 16. 
 z 2
 
 340 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 sooner or later, rehabilitate Necker in the history of 
 France. It cannot be doubted that, in the corrupt 
 times of the Eevolution and of the First Empire, if 
 not since, his almost anomalous moral character 
 rendered him incomprehensible to his critics, and 
 impaired his rank as a statesman. Had the 
 American Eevolution failed, Washington's own 
 character, as well as his fame, would have been 
 different in the judgment of the world. Xecker, 
 before the unavoidable failure of the Eevolution, 
 was the great man of his times. Not merely were 
 his talents acknowledged, but his opinions were 
 enthusiastically approved, except by the corrupt 
 ruhng classes and a few Eadicals. ' Men of ex- 
 traordinary genius,' says Emerson, ' acquire an 
 almost absolute ascendant over their nearest com- 
 panions. The Count de Crillon said to M. d'AUon- 
 ville, Avitli French vivacity, " If the universe and 
 I professed one opinion, and Necker expressed a 
 contrary one, I should be at once convinced that 
 the universe and I were mistaken." ' 
 
 The men who defeated Necker defeated the 
 Eevolution. No impartial thinker can doubt that, 
 had France followed the guidance of Necker (what- 
 ever may have been the fallac}' of some of his 
 opinions, as of those of all around him) she would 
 have escaped the atrocities and failures of the Eevo- 
 lution. History may yet have a word to say on that 
 subject. 
 
 The only survivor of his personal acquaintances
 
 XX, 
 
 Neckers Policy. 341 
 
 whom I have been able to discover, writes : ' The 
 hour has not yet come for impartial justice to be 
 done to this venerable man, who combined with so 
 many eminent gifts such severe virtues. Tlie writer 
 who could trace with the same pen the " Compte- 
 Eendu," the " Coursde Morale Eehgieuse," and the 
 " Bonheur des Sots," — the Minister of State who, 
 witliout accepting any reward, put into the treasury 
 two millions of his own property, witli hardly a 
 hope of receiving it again — the man who had the 
 courage, at the Court of Versailles, to be, at that 
 time, a defender of religious sentiments, a faithful 
 husband, and a devoted parent — Avho from 1780 to 
 his death in 1804 avowed, as his political motto, 
 the utmost liberty compatible with order, — such a 
 man merits that his memory be held in honour by 
 every nation which is capable of appreciating true 
 worth. The creator of the Provincial Assembhes 
 in France, an institution which (as M. de Lavergne 
 has shown) might, if riglitly appreciated, have 
 saved France, deserved the national gratitude. His 
 trial before the tribunal of history is not yet 
 finished.''' 
 
 Curiously enough, the chief hostile criticism on 
 Necker's poHcy has had reference to a principle 
 which the advancing liberalism of our own times 
 zealously recognises. He wished the largest possible 
 consideration of the national problem by the national 
 mind. He therefore provided that the Tiers Etat, 
 
 ^ Pictet de Sergy's unpublished Souvenirs.
 
 342 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 the people, sliould be represented in the States- 
 General by as many deputies as the two other 
 orders united ; for the two others were virtually 
 one : tlie Churcli being a part of the State constitu- 
 tion, the clergy Avere functionaries of the State ; 
 the nobles and the clergy formed the aristo- 
 cratic class ; botli claimed immunities from taxa- 
 tion which could no longer be tolerated by the 
 burdened people. What remedy could the latter 
 command without equal representation ? This 
 sympathetic concession to the people has been 
 considered by Necker's critics his great crime ; in 
 our day it should be esteemed his great virtue. 
 
 He has been further condemned for not gua- 
 ranteeing, in his programme of the States-General, 
 the separate action of the nobles and clergy on the 
 one hand, and the deputies of the people on the 
 other. The latter were substantially tlie nation. 
 They were the sufferers whose wrongs were to 
 be redressed. The problem was a financial one. 
 Increased resources could alone save the State. 
 The nobles and the Cliurch had brouo'ht it to 
 ruin by their hnancial excesses and exemptions. 
 They had obstinately refused to share in the 
 taxation proportionately with the people, down to 
 the time of the States-General, when the gathering 
 storm compelled them to make favourable avowals, 
 Avhich the people could not, or would not, trust. 
 Necker did not dictate to the deputies on the 
 question of their separate or united action. He
 
 XX. 
 
 Neckers Policy. 343 
 
 left that for their own decision, tliough his sym- 
 pathies were on the side of the people. The nobles 
 and the clergy resisted, during six tnmultuons 
 weeks, the attempts of the popnlar representatives 
 (led chiefly by Mirabeau) for a combined Assem- 
 bly for tlie verification of their powers. They met 
 separately down to June 17, 1789, when the de- 
 puties of the people, after some additions to their 
 number from the other orders, declared them- 
 selves to be the ' National Assembly,' announcing 
 that, ' after the verification of their powers, they 
 discovered the Assembly to be already composed 
 of representatives which were sent directl}' by 
 at least ninety-six hundredths of the nation.' ^ It 
 was the obstinacy of the aristocratic classes that 
 thus roused the popular passions, till they at last 
 swept the nobility and the Church out of the 
 bankrupt country. The ruling classes and the 
 Church were responsible for the long degrada- 
 tion of the people, by which they were rendered 
 capable of the ferocities which ensued ; and they 
 were responsible also for the immediate provo- 
 cation wdiich aroused and maddened the people. 
 Neither Necker nor any other man could have an- 
 ticipated the popular excesses. Hitherto, through- 
 out French history, the j)eople had been too 
 humbly submissive ; the higher classes had led the 
 way in almost every national disru]:)tion, and the}' 
 
 ^ Hist. He la Revolution, kc, i. G, par Bertraud cle Molevilla. 
 Paris, 1801.
 
 344 Madame de Sta'el. ch. 
 
 wished now to control the nation without sharing 
 materially in the financial sacrifices necessary for 
 its salvation. They wrangled at Versailles till 
 their liour was passed ; the nation was wrecked ; 
 and they who provoked the disaster have found it 
 convenient to charge Necker with their own re- 
 sponsibility for it.
 
 XXI. 
 
 Religion. 345 
 
 CHAPTEE XXL 
 
 LIFE AT COPPET. 
 
 Moral Effect of the Death of her Father — Her Eeligious Views^ 
 Letter to Gouverneur Morris — Her Sketch of Necker's Character 
 and private Life — Society at Coppet — Bonstetten— Schlegel — 
 Miiller, the Historian — Her Opinion of him — Madame Necker de 
 Saussure — Letter to Madame Eecamier. 
 
 The death of her father made a moral epoch in 
 Madame de Stael's hfe. The baptism of sorrow 
 purified her nature. Always predisposed to re- 
 ligious sentiments, she had, nevertheless, hitherto 
 felt more or less the relaxing influence of the 
 prevalent moral ideas of her times. Though they 
 could not cliange her principles, they could not 
 fail to affect the sentiments, and, to some extent, 
 the life of a being so susceptible. Her cousin says 
 that from this time ' her religious opinions were 
 more pronounced, her sentiments of piety more con- 
 stant and more active. The vagueness of a poetic 
 faith could no longer suffice for her heart.' Not a 
 poetic faith, indeed, but still hers was always a faith 
 of the heart rather than of tlie head. It was more 
 difficult, in tliat age than even in ours, to accept 
 the traditional, the defmitive dicta of the Church. 
 The genius, tlie spirit of Cliristianity, now became,
 
 34^ Madame de Stael, ch. 
 
 more than ever, precious to her ; but she found it 
 not in speculative dogma or formula, or sectarian 
 arrogations. She found it in all sects, underlying 
 their petty discriminations ; in the sincere but 
 eccentric fervour of Madame de Krlidner, as we 
 have seen and shall hereafter more fully see ; in the 
 Moravians, to whom she devotes a chapter of her 
 ' AUemagne ; ' in the mediaeval Mystics, notmth- 
 standing their reveries : in the Protestant sects 
 generally ; and in select Eoman Catholic minds. 
 ' Who,' she asks, ' is not profoimdly affected in read- 
 ing the spiritual writings of Fenelon ? Where else 
 do we discover more light, more consolation, more 
 charity ? Here is no fanaticism, no austerity other 
 than that of virtue, no intolerance, no exclusiveness. 
 The diversities of Christian communions cannot be 
 felt at this height, which is above all the accidental 
 forms that time creates and destroys. We have 
 no control over our birth or our death, and more 
 than tliree-fourths of our destiny is determined 
 by these events. No one can change the pri- 
 mary impressions of his birth, his country, his 
 age. ISTo one can acquire features or genius 
 which he has not received from nature ; and 
 how many otlier circumstances enter irresistibly 
 into the composition of life ! If our fate depend 
 upon a hundred different lots, there are ninety 
 and nine whicli depend not upon ourselves ; and 
 all the force of our will bears upon the feeble 
 portion Avliicli seems 3'ct in our poAver. The action
 
 XXI, 
 
 Religion. 347 
 
 of the will, even on this feeble portion, is singularly- 
 incomplete. The single act of man Avhich can 
 always attain its object, is tlie accomplishment of 
 duty. The issue of all other resolutions depends 
 on accidents with which even prudence can do 
 nothing. The greater proportion of men never 
 obtain that which they most strongly desire ; and 
 prosperity, even if they attain it, comes to them 
 often in an unexpected way.' ^ We have hereto- 
 fore seen, in her remarkable conversation with 
 Lacretelle, the historian, and shall hereafter see in 
 an equally remarkable one, reported by Pdtter, the 
 distinguished Berlin professor, how completely she 
 rehed on the instincts of the heart in matters of 
 religion. But the intuitions of the heart Avere, 
 with her, the highest logic, — higher than the deduc- 
 tions of the reason, and always in harmony with 
 the latter when it is right. She believed that the 
 instincts, which in lower creatures are so sure, 
 ought to be surer in man, in whom they are aided 
 by reason ; they are indeed but a quicker, a spon- 
 taneous logic, and, in matters of the heart, man's 
 most infallible resource. Eeligion was, with her, 
 supremely a matter of the heart ; and dogma and 
 formula important only so far as they ministered to 
 the needs of the heart. 
 
 In her present affliction her genius, as usual in 
 the great trials of her career, remained unimpaired, 
 and rose to loftier altitudes ; and her greatest 
 
 ' L'Alh'VKifjnc, iv. G,
 
 34^ Madame de Stacl. ch. 
 
 works were to follow. Thenceforward life was to 
 her more serious, more sacred. For some time her 
 grief seemed inconsolable. Four months after 
 the death of Necker she wrote to her American 
 friend, Gouverneur Morris : ' The pain of his loss 
 deepens every day in my heart. Ah ! tell me, in 
 your America, where they love mankind — in your 
 America, where they beheve in God, how do you 
 endure the sorrow of death? When souls have 
 been so intimately united, is there no communica- 
 tion between the living and the dead ? I have 
 friends, I have duties, but he was in the centre of 
 my heart ; there, where no one else has penetrated 
 — where no one else ever can penetrate. I weep 
 bitterly in writing ; sympathise with me, for my 
 heart is broken.' 
 
 Bonstetten was now with her, to comfort her. 
 ' She is frightfully depressed,' lie writes to Frederica 
 Brun; 'we have done nothing but w^eep together. 
 Wliat eloquence ! What sentiment ! What pro- 
 found love for the father wdio loved her so much ! 
 She is now independent, with an income of a 
 hundred thousand livres ; and God only knows if 
 she w^ill be happy, with all her earthly advantages ; 
 the world is too little for her soul of lire.' ''^ 
 
 She turned to her habitual means of relief in 
 times of trouble — to work ; and prepared a sketch 
 of the 'Character and Private Life of JSTecker,'^ to 
 
 "^ Steinlen's Bonstetten, cli. vi. 
 
 ^ Du Caractere de M. NecJcer et de sa Viepricce : (Euvres comjdl'tes, ii.
 
 XXI. Her Biography of Necker. 349 
 
 accompany a volume of his fragmentary writings 
 which she soon pubhshed, with the title of his 
 ' Manuscripts,' — that palpitating record of grief 
 and affection, that heart-touching lament, which 
 Benjamin Constant says is ' the best revelation of 
 her own character ; for her whole mind and heart 
 are displayed in it. The delicacy of her percep- 
 tions, the astonishing variety of her thoughts, the 
 ardour of her eloquence, the strength of her judg- 
 ment, the reahty of her enthusiasm, her love of 
 liberty and justice, her passionate sensibilit}^, the 
 melancholy which often- marked even her purely 
 literary productions, — all these are here devoted 
 to express a single feeling, to call forth the sym- 
 pathy of others in a single sentiment. No- 
 where else has she treated a subject with all the 
 resources of her intellect, all the depths of her 
 feeling, and without being diverted by a single 
 thought of a less absorbing nature.' ^ There is 
 probably not to be found in all literature a more 
 sincere and affecting disclosure of the heart of 
 woman, or a more perfect expression of filial 
 affection, than in this introduction to the ' Manu- 
 scripts.' It is limited to the personal character 
 and private hfe of Necker ; for to her, in this time 
 of sorrow, the subject was too sacred for j)ohtics ; 
 she makes but passing allusions to them. She pro- 
 jected, however, a vindication of hispubhc life, and 
 left it at her death, twelve j^ears later, incomplete, 
 
 * Constant's Melanges See. viii.
 
 350 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 but splendid with her best abihty, in her ehiborate 
 work on the French Eevohition. 
 
 Occupation mitigated her grief; her friends 
 gathered sympathetically and numerously around 
 her ; and we are assured that the summer of 1804 
 was one of the most brilliant seasons at the chateau.^ 
 Schlegel, Constant, Sismondi, Bonstetten, enter- 
 tained her by their conversation. Midler, the his- 
 torian, joined them — a hving library — ' crushing 
 under the weight of his erudition, as well as his 
 historic good sense, the two sceptics ' — Constant 
 and Schlegel. ' Sismondi was astonished and con- 
 founded by this ratthng fire of ideas. Bonstetten 
 was gay, elegant, full of fine amiability. The good 
 angel of the house, Madame Necker de Saussure, 
 quite up to the intellectual level of these men, 
 tempered their disputations by her sweet gravity 
 and mascuhne judgment ; in the midst of them all, 
 the queen, the mistress of these enchanting scenes, 
 Corinne, powerful and vivid, electrified the circle, 
 though death was in her heart. " I go," she said to 
 them, " to bear the burden of life into Italy, where, 
 they say, one forgets existence." It was a spectacle 
 worthy of profound and melancholy interest.' 
 
 Bonstetten in midsummer wrote : ' Madame de 
 Stael becomes daily greater and better ; but souls 
 of great talent have great sufferings : they are 
 solitary in the world, hke Mont Blanc' In his 
 letters to Frederica Brun he lias left us many 
 
 ' Steinlen's Bonstetten, ch. vii.
 
 XXL Coppd. 351 
 
 interesting allusions to Coppet at this period, ' I 
 like Schlegel very much,' he says. ' He is a man 
 full of ideas, of spirit, of great and solid learninf^ 
 It is hardly possible to have more intellect than he 
 has : he attacks everything, and his French-German 
 is so amusing, so droll, so biting, that any adversary 
 is disarmed in ten minutes. He has an agreeable 
 countenance, an expression of kindliness ; but in 
 excitement it becomes as sharp as a sword : his 
 gestures are so characteristic, that I cannot help 
 laughing at him. Madame de Stael plunges into 
 his disputes ; all old French opinions enter tlie lists 
 by turns, and are thrust from the saddle like dis- 
 mounted cavahers. Schlegel, when not in gentle 
 mood, is unmercifully severe ; and the most beauti- 
 ful sight in the scene is Madame de Stael charoino- 
 herself with the blame of our quarrels ; and she has 
 three times as much intellect as he. Schlegel re- 
 sponds to her, now with the finest thought, and then 
 with the finest gallantry. Everybody is delighted 
 with the combat. They make breaches into the poor 
 French party every day ; Madame de Stael helps to 
 demohsh it. Albertine [Madame Necker de Saus- 
 sure] is a convert. Midler is always the same : gay, 
 accomphshed, a devourer of books ; we are to each 
 other what we were twenty years ago.' ' I returned 
 yesterday with Midler from Coppet. I feel fatigued, 
 as by a surfeit of intellect. There is more mind ex- 
 pended at Coppet in a day than in many countries 
 in a year. But I am lialf dead ; and my chamber
 
 , s 2 Madavie de Stacl. 
 
 CH. 
 
 at Geneva seems a tomb.' Again : ' I was yester- 
 day at Coppet, with Sismondi, Midler, and Mallet ; 
 the heaux esprits of all Switzerland united there. 
 Mliller fought Schlegel ; the latter denied, at the 
 table, the personahty of Moses, of Homer, and of 
 Ossian ; Muller responded that he would some time 
 or other take the pen and demonstrate, in a learned 
 work, that Charlemagne never existed. Then he 
 gave us an analysis of the first two books of 
 Moses, chapter by chapter, which imposed silence 
 on Schlegel and Constant. They dared not open 
 their mouths again. The good Sismondi was quite 
 stunned ; he has declared to me that they all 
 seemed steeped in clownish ignorance. I tried to 
 console him. He wished to go to Germany, to see, 
 himself, its great geniuses ; I counselled him rather 
 to go to Greece.' 
 
 Madame de Stael, with whom sentiment was 
 infinitely superior to erudition, heartily appreciated 
 Muller, who combined both. ' He is,' she says, 
 ' the most learned of historians, and is truly a poet 
 in his manner of painting events and men — a 
 scholar, and a writer of grand talent. He is a 
 man of incredible knowledge ; and his powers, in 
 this respect, really alarm us. One cannot conceive 
 how the head of man can contain such a world of 
 facts and dates. The six thousand years known 
 to us are all perfectly arranged in his memory ; 
 and his studies have been so profound, that they are 
 as astounding as his personal recollections. There
 
 XXI, 
 
 Milller. 353 
 
 is not a village of Switzerland, not a noble family, 
 the history of which he does not know. One day, in 
 consequence of a bet, they demanded of him the 
 series of the sovereign Counts of Bugey. He named 
 them instantly, save that he could not recall whether 
 one of them had been regent or reigned by title, 
 and he seriously reproached himself for such a 
 failure of memory. Men of genius among the 
 ancients were not subject to this immense labour 
 of learning, which augments as time goes on ; their 
 genius was not fatigued by erudite studies. It 
 costs more to distinguish oneself in our days, and 
 we ought to respect the formidable labour now 
 requisite for the mastery of almost any subject. 
 The death of such a man as Miiller is an irreparable 
 loss ; something more than a man seems to perish 
 when such faculties are extinguished. He is the 
 classic German historian, reading habitually, in the 
 original, the Greek and Latin authors ; he cultivates 
 literature and the arts in the service of history ; 
 his boundless erudition, instead of impairing his 
 natural vivacity, is the ground whence his imagina- 
 tion takes its flight, and the living truth of his 
 pictures is founded in their scrupulous fidelity.''^ 
 
 Bonstetten makes an excursion with Miiller to 
 Valeyres. 'We are again,' he says, 'the old, or 
 rather the young friends. He is joyous as a child ; 
 but here the people seem to me frightfully prosaic. 
 In four days I shall be in Coppet, where I shall find 
 
 6 rAUemagne, ii. 29. 
 VOL. I. A A
 
 354 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 myself prosaic, at least till my wings grow again.' 
 In August he and Miiller are again at Coppet. 
 He is not in good mood, and qualifies his opinions 
 somewhat. Of Madame de Stael he says (still to 
 Frederica Brun), ' She has an extreme kindness; no 
 person has more mind ; but she is destitute of some 
 of your excellences. She lacks appreciation of 
 art ; for her the beautiful exists only in intellect, 
 or eloquence. Ko one has more practical wisdom, 
 less for herself, it is true, than for her friends ; 
 but Schlegel is insupportable to me. He has not 
 been, able to discipline himself enough to attain 
 a httle reason.' N"o thing, however, could change 
 Bonstetten's good opinion of Madame Necker de 
 Saussure. ' She is an angel,' he writes a httle later ; 
 ' she criticises my labours with severity, and 
 makes excellent remarks to me ; for she under- 
 stands metaphysics and languages better than 
 her cousin.' ' Nevertheless,' remarks Steinlen, liis 
 biographer, ' Madame de Stael was always the 
 hterary star around which moved the thoughts of 
 Bonstetten — she was the Muse who was able to 
 awaken ideas.' 
 
 Though conversation and labour afforded to 
 Madame de Stael the most effectual rehefs fi-om 
 suffering, she could not yet rise above the dejec- 
 tion occasioned by the death of her father. Cop- 
 pet was still too sad a place for her stricken heart 
 and restless genius. She planned a tour in Italy 
 (which was to enable her to give to the world her
 
 XXI. Resolves to travel in Italy. 
 
 best-known work), and on the eve of her depar- 
 ture wrote to Madame Eecamier (November 2, 
 1804), 'Dear and beautiful Juhette, you give me 
 the hope of seeing you, next July, on my return 
 from Italy ; then only can I believe myself no more 
 exiled. I will receive you in the chateau, where 
 I have lost what I loved the most in the world. 
 You will bring a sense of happiness here, where 
 it no longer exists. Beg M. Eecamier to afford 
 me this consolation. Adieu, dear Juliette, I 
 embrace you. I love you more than any other 
 woman in France.' " 
 
 ' Coppet et Weimar. 
 
 A A y
 
 356 Maaame de Stael. ch. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ITALY ART. 
 
 Madame de Stael goes to Italy — Her Love of Music — Sclileg-el's con- 
 nection with lier Worlcs — Her Italian Tour — Observations on Art 
 — ' Corinne.' 
 
 Necker died on April 8, 1804 ; by the end of 
 October his daughter's sketch of his ' Character 
 and Private Life' was finished. Her mind now 
 recoiled upon itself; every local scene that re- 
 called her father recalled her bereavement. Her 
 health began to fail, and she was ordered by her 
 physician to the more genial chmate of the South. 
 In November she was on her way to Italy, ac- 
 companied by nearly all her family — her domestics, 
 her three children, and Schlegel ; and, part of the 
 way, by Sismondi, She could have no better guide 
 among the classic monuments of that country 
 than the learned German, who was familiar with 
 every allusion to them in the Latin writers, and 
 whose cultivated, artistic taste could assist her 
 own. 
 
 Hitherto music had been to her the chief of 
 the arts. She was skilful at tlie piano, and a 
 good singer ; and music was a necessity of her
 
 XXII. Her Love of Music . 357 
 
 nature, not merely as a relief from study or trouble, 
 but as an expression of her exuberant sensibility. 
 For many years an Italian musician, Pestosa, 
 was a member of her household, not only as an 
 instructor, but as a sort of family minstrel.^ The 
 other arts slie could appreciate only by her in- 
 stinctive good taste ; the conversation of Schlegel 
 led her to more critical appreciation of them. No- 
 minally the instructor of her children, he was, 
 practically, her own also, and doubtless we owe, in 
 part, the splendid superiority of her subsequent 
 works to his aid. The chief merits of her ' AUe- 
 magne ' have been claimed for him ; he unquestion- 
 ably was the best of authorities, and she used him 
 as other authors would use the best of accessible 
 libraries. All her writings were submitted to the 
 criticism of the cultivated coterie of Coppet ; but 
 Schlegel himself denied that he had given more 
 than critical revision to the 'AUemagne,' and ac- 
 knowledged that, instead of making her books, he 
 had himself learned from her how to write so 
 as to interest the European public.^ No reader of 
 her essay on Literature can doubt her ability to 
 write the ' AUemagne ; ' and, whatever aid she 
 might have received from Schlegel, as from books 
 or other sources, in gathering the materials for her 
 ' Corinne,' its magnificent descriptions, its wealth of 
 
 ^ Coppet et Weimar, iii. 
 
 ^ P. de Golberg's article on Schlegel in the Nouvelle Revue 
 Germanique, Sept. 1832.
 
 35^ Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 sentiment and of thought, its superabundant genius 
 in all respects, prove it to have been all her own. 
 No man could have written it ; its faults, as well as 
 its excellences, indicate the sex of its author. 
 
 She was an apt scholar for Schlegel's instruc- 
 tions in the arts ; for, if hitherto unskilled in their 
 technical criticism, her genius was ever in sympathy 
 with them. To her, beauty was the highest utility. 
 Eigorous analysis, so important in the sciences and 
 practical arts, she would apply cautiously to the 
 fine arts. ' Analysis,' she says, ' can examine only 
 by dividing. It is applicable, like the scalpel, to 
 dead nature, but it is a poor instrument for the 
 knoAvledge of that which lives ; and if it is difficult 
 to define, by words, the animated conception which 
 represents to us objects in their completeness, it is 
 precisely because such a conception belongs to the 
 very essence of things. To divide in order to 
 comprehend is, in philosophy, a sign of weakness, 
 as to divide in order to conquer is, in politics.' 
 Speaking, in her ' Allemagne,' of the sentiment, the 
 enthusiasm, which characterised the art criticism 
 of Winckelmann, she remarks : ' It is thus only that 
 we can comprehend the beautiful arts. It is ne- 
 cessary that the attention which they excite should 
 spring from love, and that we discover in the great 
 works of genius, as in the features of a cherished 
 being, a thousand charms, revealed by the senti- 
 ments which they inspire.' Though the sentiment 
 of the beautiful was ever strong with her, yet, as
 
 XXII. 
 
 Art Criticism. 359 
 
 with the Greeks, it had hitherto found its gratifica- 
 tions more in humanity, in Kving rather tlian in 
 inanimate nature. What we call the ' fine arts ' 
 were, in her native language, called the beautiful 
 arts — beaux arts. ' The beautiful,' she says, ' con- 
 sidered only as agreeable, would be confined to 
 the sphere of the sensations, and, in consequence, 
 be subject to differences of taste ; it could not 
 merit that universal assent which is the true proof 
 of beauty. The beautiful, defined as perfection, 
 demands a sort of appreciation similar to that on 
 which esteem is founded. The enthusiasm which 
 the beautiful ought to inspire belongs neither to 
 the sensations nor the judgment : it is an innate 
 disposition, like the sentiment of duty and the 
 primary notions of the understanding. We recog- 
 nise the beautiful, when we see it, because it is the 
 exterior image of the ideal, the type of which is 
 in our minds. Diversities of taste can apply to 
 that which is agreeable, because the sensations are 
 a source of this kind of pleasure ; but all men 
 admire what is really beautiful because they have, 
 in their souls, sentiments of celestial origin which 
 beauty awakens, and which it enables them to en- 
 joy.' 
 
 It is to be regretted that we have but few de- 
 tails of her Italian travels. The first part of the 
 ' Ten Years of Exile ' ends at her return from 
 Germany, in 1804, and the narrative is not resumed 
 till after an interval of nearly six years.
 
 360 Madame de Stael. ch. 
 
 We learn from her son, the Baron de Staiil,^ 
 that her mind, oppressed by grief, revived under 
 the genial sky of Naples ; that the vivid impressions 
 of the scenery, the art, and the poetic life of the 
 South, reawakened her genius, restoring her power 
 to think and write. She was treated by the 
 diplomatic agents of Napoleon without favour, but 
 also without injustice. Letters of introduction 
 from Joseph Bonaparte gave lier access to the best 
 society in Eome, but she wrote to Bonstetten that 
 she found in it little nourishment for either her mind 
 or heart. William Humboldt was her best com- 
 panion there. The Eoman princes seemed stupid 
 to her. ' I got along better,' she says, ' with the 
 cardinals, who, though they tyrannise a little, have 
 a wider range of thought. But how little need 
 has one of men here, where things speak so power- 
 fully ! Yesterday I was received at the Arcadian 
 Academy with indescribable applause. All Eome, 
 with its princes, cardinals, &c. was present. I 
 spare you a dozen sonnets, in which I am made a 
 new star.' '^ 
 
 She appreciated the capabilities of the people 
 and the evils which repressed their spirit. ' In the 
 present state of the Italians,' she saj^s, ' the glory 
 of the beautiful arts is the only intellectual passion 
 allowed them. Tliey discern genius, in the arts, 
 
 ^ Avcrtissemc7if, by Baron de Stael, to second part of the Div 
 Annec's Sec. 
 
 ^ Morell's Karl von Bonstetten, viii. "Wintertliur, 1864.
 
 XXII. 
 
 SotUhern Life. 361 
 
 with an enthusiasm which ought to produce many 
 great men, if applause alone sufficed to produce 
 them — if a strong hfe, grand interests, and national 
 independence, were not necessary for their exist- 
 ence.' 
 
 She observes that even the humour of the 
 people is tinctured with the artistic spirit : ' The 
 true gaiety of the Italians is not mockery, it is 
 imagination ; their comedy is not the picture of 
 manners, but poetic exaggerations. It is Ariosto, not 
 Mohere, that can amuse Italy.' ' The people of the 
 South are readily fatigued by prose, they paint their 
 true sentiments only in poetry.' She recognised much 
 originality, much individuality, in their spirit as in 
 their poetic, though not in their prose literature. 
 The limitations imposed by political oppression on 
 the range of inquiry and speculation rendered the 
 prose writers tame and monotonous, but the poets 
 had more freedom in their imaginative sphere. 
 She discerned in the general mind much ' national 
 colour,' with abundant individual variations. And 
 this intellectual character is, in her estimation, a 
 good ground of hope, ' for,' she adds, ' genius is 
 essentially creative, it bears the character of him 
 who possesses it. Nature, which wills tliat no two 
 leaves shall be alike, has placed stiU more diversity 
 in souls ; and imitation is only a species of death, 
 as it deprives one of his natural existence.' 
 
 The climate and scenery especially charmed her 
 senses and tranquillised her mind. ' The night-
 
 362 Madame de Stacl. ch, 
 
 ingales repose among tlie roses, and the purest 
 music mingles with tlie sweetest odours. All the 
 charms of nature seem here to attract one an- 
 other. But that which is, above all, refreshing 
 and \ inexpressible, is the balminess of the atmo- 
 sphere. When we contemplate a beautiful view, 
 in the North, the climate always mars a little 
 the pleasure that we feel. The shght sensations 
 of cold and humidity, which turn our attention 
 more or less from what we see, are like false 
 notes in a concert; but, in approaching Naples, 
 you experience so perfect a sense of well-being, so 
 intimate a friendship of nature for you, that nothing 
 lessens your agreeable sensations. The relations 
 of man, in our climates, are mostly with society. 
 Nature in the warm countries places him in rela- 
 tion with exterior objects, and his feelings flow 
 spontaneously forth upon surrounding scenes. 
 The South has, indeed, its melancholy : in what 
 place does not the destiny of man produce it? 
 But there is, in this melancholy, neither discon- 
 tent, nor anxiety, nor regret. Elsewhere it is 
 life, such as it is, that suffices not for the faculties 
 of the soul ; here the faculties of the soul suffice 
 not for life. One's superabundant sensations in- 
 spire indolent reveries, of which the mind hardly 
 troubles itself to take account. There is, in this 
 nature, at once a life and a repose which satisfy 
 entirely the varied cravings of existence.' 
 
 To such a mind the great works of art could
 
 XXII. Classic Art. :^^2} 
 
 not fail to be unusually suggestive. She wandered 
 through the miles of galleries, in Florence, Eome, 
 and Naples, crowded with such works, or rather 
 their classic ruins — with dehght mixed with awe. 
 In the Vatican, ' one seems to see,' she remarks, 
 ' the battle-field Avhere time has warred against 
 genius, and these mutilated members attest its 
 victory, and our loss.' She was struck by the air 
 of repose which the classic masters impressed on 
 their statues and busts, ' the images of heroes and 
 gods, in which the most perfect beauty, in eternal 
 serenity, seems to enjoy itself What poetry in 
 these visages, where the sublime expression is for- 
 ever fixed, where the greatest thoughts are clothed 
 with an image so worthy of them ! The courageous 
 support of the suffering of our times, in the midst of 
 a social state so cold and so oppressive, is now what 
 is most noble in man ; and, in our days, he who has 
 not suffered knows not how to feel, or think. But 
 there was, in antiquity, something more noble than 
 suffering : it was calm heroism ; it was the sentiment 
 of force, which could develop itself amidst free and 
 liberal institutions. The most beautiful statues of 
 the Greeks nearly always indicate repose. The 
 Laocoon and the Niobe are the only ones which 
 express violent suffering ; but it is the vengeance 
 of heaven which they recall, not passions born in 
 the human heart. Human nature had, with the 
 ancients, an organisation so healthy, the air cir- 
 culated so freely iii their large lungs, their poli-
 
 364 Madame de Stael. 
 
 tical order was so mucli in harmony with their 
 faculties, that there seldom existed souls ill at ease, 
 as in our days. We hardly discover in their 
 statues any traces of melancholy. The head 
 of Apollo, in the Justinian palace, and another 
 of Alexander dying, are the only ones in which 
 dispositions of the soul for reverie and suffering 
 are indicated ; but they both appertain, according 
 to all appearance, to times when Grreece was sub- 
 jugated. After the loss of liberty there were no 
 longer that pride, that tranquillity of soul, which 
 produced, among the ancients, the chief works of 
 sculpture, and of poetry composed in the same 
 spirit.' 
 
 The tombs, the sarcophagi, had to her mind a 
 peculiar significance, in accordance with the classic 
 times. ' They recall only heroic or agreeable 
 ideas. On the multitude of those in the Vatican 
 one sees battles and sports represented in relief 
 The memory of the activity of life was the most 
 beautiful homage that the classic ancients believed 
 they could render to the dead. Nothing enfeebled, 
 nothing diminished, their forces. But the statues 
 in sleep, or only in an attitude of complete repose, 
 presenting an image of eternal tranquillity, accord 
 most marvellously with the general effect of the 
 South on man. It seems as if the beautiful arts 
 are here the spectators of nature ; and that genius 
 itself, which so agitates the soul in the North, is, 
 under a beautiful sky, but an added liarmony.'
 
 xxii. Destmy of Italy. 365 
 
 The obelisks, hoary with antiquity and aspiring 
 in form, pleased her imagination. ' Their summits, 
 lost in the air, seem to bear even to heaven a great 
 thought from man.' 
 
 St. Peter's — ' the greatest edifice that man has 
 ever raised,' was, to her, the most sublime monu- 
 ment in Eome, and the more so that it at first 
 bafiles and disappoints the mind. ' One reaches 
 the sublime only by degrees. Infinite distances 
 separate it from that which is only beautiful. St. 
 Peter's is a work of man which produces on the 
 mind the eifect of a marvel of nature. It is the 
 only work of art on earth which has the kind of 
 Grandeur that characterises tlie immediate works of 
 creation. In it the genius of man is glorified by 
 the mao-nificence of nature.' ' The view of such a 
 monument is as a fixed and never-ceasins^ strain 
 of music — ready to do you good whenever you 
 approach it.' 
 
 She was hopeful, even then, of the destiny of 
 the Italians. They needed but unity, nationahty, 
 and liberty, with their consequent amehorations, 
 for the successful activity of the repressed genius 
 Avhich she discerned in them. Prophetically she 
 says, ' There is so much soul in their beautiful arts, 
 that, perhaps, the day may come in which their 
 character may equal their genius.' A land which, 
 since her day, has produced both a Cavour and 
 a Garibaldi — which was the first to initiate tlie
 
 o 
 
 66 Madaine de Sta'cl. ch. 
 
 Eenaissance, and which, during ages of oppression, 
 has never failed to produce great individual minds 
 in science and philosophy, as well as in poetry and 
 the arts, need never despair. 
 
 Her Corinne shows how thorouglily she studied 
 Italian life and character, and how minutely she 
 observed the scenery and monuments of the coun- 
 try. Even in our day, it is one of the best hand- 
 books for the traveller, in Eome ; if not for the 
 topographical features of the city and its vicinity, 
 yet for local descriptions, and especially for the ar- 
 tistic and poetic appreciation of classic ruins, and 
 of life ; for, while it pictures real scenes truthfully, 
 it expresses also their ideal suggestions — those 
 poetic inspirations whicli all intelligent travellers 
 feel, but which few can well define to themselves, 
 and fewer can express to others. Our best im- 
 pressions of grand or beautiful sights are always 
 enhanced by their communication to sympathetic 
 and appreciative minds. ' Let us pause here,' said 
 Oswald to Corinne, as they stood in view of the 
 tomb of Adrian and St. Peter.s.' ' I know not if I 
 am deceiving myself,' replied Corinne, ' but it seems 
 to me that we become dearer to one another, in 
 admiring together monuments whicli speak to the 
 soul by a true grandeur.' Genius never looked 
 tlirough clearer eyes on the marvels of Italy than 
 in the person of Madame de Stael ; and the pen 
 has never more enchantingly described them.
 
 XXII. Retttrn to the North. 367 
 
 Abundantly supplied with observations on tlie 
 life and art of the South, she returned to the North, 
 to embody them in her most popular, though not 
 Iier most able book. 
 
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