the women of the french salons-第57章

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It　was　this　marriage；　into　which　she　entered　with　all　seriousness；　and　a　devotion　that　was　none　the　less　sincere　because　it　was　of　the　intellect　rather　than　the　heart；　that　gave　the　final　tinge　to　a　character　that　was　already　laid　on　solid　foundations。　　Strong；　clear…sighted；　earnest；　and　gifted；　her　later　experience　had　accented　a　slightly　ascetic　quality　which　had　been　deepened　also　by　her　study　of　antique　models。　　Her　tastes　were　grave　and　severe。　　But　they　had　a　lighter　side。　　As　a　child　she　had　excelled　in　music；　dancing；　drawing；　and　other　feminine　accomplishments；　though　one　feels　always　that　her　distinctive　talent　does　not　lie　in　these　things。　　She　is　more　at　home　with　her　thoughts。　　There　was　a　touch　of　poetry；　too；　in　her　nature；　that　under　different　circumstances　might　have　lent　it　a　softer　and　more　graceful　coloring。　　She　had　a　natural　love　for　the　woods　and　the　flowers。　　The　single　relief　to　her　somber　life　at　La　Platiere；　after　her　marriage；　was　in　the　long　and　lonely　rambles　in　the　country；　whose　endless　variations　of　hill　and　vale　and　sky　and　color　she　has　so　tenderly　and　so　vividly　noted。　　In　her　last　days　a　piano　and　a　few　flowers　lighted　the　darkness　of　her　prison　walls；　and　out　of　these　her　imagination　reared　a　world　of　its　own；　peopled　with　dreams　and　fancies　that　contrasted　strangely　with　the　gloom　of　her　surroundings。　　This　poetic　vein　was　closely　allied　to　the　keen　sensibility　that　tempered　the　seriousness　of　her　character。　　With　the　mental　equipment　of　a　man；　she　combined　the　rich　sympathy　of　a　woman。　　Her　devotion　to　her　mother　was　passionate　in　its　intensity；　her　letters　to　Sophie　throb　with　warmth　and　sentiment。　　She　is　tender　and　loving；　as　well　as　philosophic　and　thoughtful。　　Her　emotional　ardor　was　doubtless　partly　the　glow　of　youth　and　not　altogether　in　the　texture　of　a　mind　so　eminently　rational；　but　there　were　rich　possibilities　behind　it。　　A　shade　of　difference　in　the　mental　and　moral　atmosphere；　a　trace　more　or　less　of　sunshine　and　happiness　are　important　factors　in　the　peculiar　combination　of　qualities　that　make　up　a　human　being。　　The　marriage　of　Mme。　Roland　led　her　into　a　world　that　had　little　color　save　what　she　brought　into　it。　　Her　husband　did　not　smile　upon　her　friends。　　Sympathy　other　than　that　of　the　intellect　she　does　not　seem　to　have　had。　　But　her　story　is　best　told　in　her　own　words；　written　in　the　last　days　of　her　life。

〃In　considering　only　the　happiness　of　my　partner；　I　soon　perceived　that　something　was　wanting　to　my　own。　　I　had　never；　for　a　single　instant；　ceased　to　see　in　my　husband　one　of　the　most　estimable　of　men；　to　whom　I　felt　it　an　honor　to　belong；　but　I　have　often　realized　that　there　was　a　lack　of　equality　between　us；　that　the　ascendency　of　an　overbearing　character；　added　to　that　of　twenty　years　more　of　age；　gave　him　too　much　superiority。　　If　we　lived　in　solitude；　I　had　many　painful　hours　to　pass；　if　we　went　into　the　world；　I　was　loved　by　men　of　whom　I　saw　that　some　might　touch　me　too　deeply。　　I　plunged　into　work　with　my　husband；　another　excess　which　had　its　inconvenience；　I　gave　him　the　habit　of　not　knowing　how　to　do　without　me　for　anything　in　the　world；　nor　at　any　moment。

〃I　honor；　I　cherish　my　husband；　as　a　sensible　daughter　adores　a　virtuous　father　to　whom　she　would　sacrifice　even　her　lover；　but　I　have　found　the　man　who　might　have　been　that　lover；　and　remaining　faithful　to　my　duties；　my　frankness　has　not　known　how　to　conceal　the　feelings　which　I　subjected　to　them。　　My　husband；　excessively　sensitive　both　in　his　affections　and　his　self…love；　could　not　support　the　idea　of　the　least　change　in　his　influence；　his　imagination　darkened；　his　jealousy　irritated　me；　happiness　fled；　he　adored　me；　I　sacrificed　myself　for　him；　and　we　were　miserable。

〃If　I　were　free；　I　would　follow　him　everywhere　to　soften　his　griefs　and　console　his　old　age；　a　soul　like　mine　leaves　no　sacrifices　imperfect。　　But　Roland　was　embittered　by　the　thought　of　sacrifice；　and　the　knowledge　once　acquired　that　I　mad　made　one　ruined　his　happiness；　he　suffered　in　accepting　it；　and　could　not　do　without　it。〃

The　sequel　to　this　tale　is　told　in　allusions　and　half　revelations；　in　her　letters　to　Buzot；　which　glow　with　suppressed　feeling；　in　her　touching　farewell　to　one　whom　she　dared　not　to　name；　but　whom　she　hoped　to　meet　where　it　would　not　be　a　crime　to　love；　in　those　final　words　of　her　〃Last　Thoughts〃〃Adieu。　。　。　。　　No；　it　is　from　thee　alone　that　I　do　not　separate；　to　leave　the　earth　is　to　approach　each　other。〃

Beneath　this　semi…transparent　veil　the　heart…drama　of　her　life　is　hidden。

For　the　sake　of　those　who　would　be　pained　by　this　story；　as　well　as　for　her　own；　we　would　rather　it　had　never　been　told。　　We　should　like　to　believe　that　the　woman　who　worked　so　nobly　with　and　for　the　man　who　died　by　his　own　hand　five　days　after　her　death；　because　he　could　stay　no　longer　in　a　world　where　such　crimes　were　possible；　had　lived　in　the　full　perfection　of　domestic　sympathy。　　But；　if　she　carried　with　her　an　incurable　wound；　one　cannot　help　regretting　that　her　Spartan　courage　had　not　led　her　to　wear　the　mantle　of　silence　to　the　end。　　Posterity　is　curious　rather　than　sympathetic；　and　the　world　is　neither　wiser　nor　better　for　these　needless　soul…revelations。　　There　is　always　a　certain　malady　of　egotism　behind　them。　　But　it　is　often　easier　to　scale　the　heights　of　human　heroism　than　to　still　the　cry　of　a　bruised　spirit。　　Mme。　Roland　had　moments　of　falling　short　of　her　own　ideals；　and　this　was　one　of　them。　　Pure；　loyal；　self…sustained　as　she　was；　her　strong　sense　of　verity　did　not　permit　the　veil　which　would　have　best　served　the　interests　of　the　larger　truth。　　It　is　fair　to　say　that　she　thought　the　malicious　gossip　of　her　enemies　rendered　this　statement　necessary　to　the　protection　of　her　fame。　　Perhaps；　after　all；　she　shows　here　her　most　human　and　lovable　if　not　her　strongest　side。　　We　should　like　Minerva　better　if　she　were　not　so　faultlessly　wise。

The　outbreak　of　the　Revolution　found　Mme。　Roland　at　La　Platiere；　where　she　shared　her　husband's　philosophic　and　economic　studies；　brought　peace　into　a　discordant　family；　attended　to　her　household　duties　and　the　training　of　her　child；　devoted　many　hours　to　generous　care　for　the　sick　and　poor；　and　reserved　a　little　leisure　for　poetry　and　the　solitary　rambles　she　loved　so　well。　　The　first　martial　note　struck　a　responsive　chord　in　her　heart。　　Her　opportunity　had　come。　　Embittered　by　class　distinctions　over　which　she　had　long　brooded；　saturated　with　the　sentiments　of　Rousseau；　and　full　of　untried　theories　constructed　in　the　closet；　with　small　knowledge　of　the　wide　and　complex　interests　with　which　it　was　necessary　to　deal；　she　centered　all　the　hitherto　latent　energies　of　her　forceful　nature　upon　the　quixotic　effort　to　redress　human　wrongs。　　Her　birth；　her　intellect；　her　character；　her　temperament；　her　education；　her　associationsall　led　her　towards　the　role　she　played　so　heroically。　　She　had　a　keen　appreciation　for　genuine　values；　but　none　whatever　for　factitious　ones。　　Her　inborn　hatred　of　artificial　distinctions　had　grown　with　her　years　and　colored　all　her　estimates　of　men　and　things。　　When　she　came　to　Paris；　she　noted　with　a　sort　of　indignation　the　superior　poise　and　courtesy　of　the　men　in　the　assembly　who　had　been　reared　in　the　habit　of　power。　　It　added　fuel　to　her　enmity　towards　institutions　in　which　reason；　knowledge；　and　integrity　paid　homage　to　fine　language　and　distinguished　manners。　　She　found　even　Vergniaud　too　refined　and　fastidious　in　his　dress　for　a　successful　republican　leader。　　Her　old　contempt　for　a　〃philosopher　with　a　feather〃　had　in　no　wise　abated。　　With　such　principles　ingrained　and　fostered；　it　is　not　difficult　to　forecast　the　part　Mme。　Roland　was　destined　to　play　in　the　coming　conflict　of　classes。　　Whatever　we　may　think　of　the　wisdom　of　her　attitude　towards　the　Revolution；　she　represented　at　least　its　most　sincere　side。　　As　she　stood　white…robed　and　courageous　at　the　foot　of　the　scaffold；　facing　the　savage　populace　she　had　laid　down　her　life　to　befriend；　perhaps　her　perspectives　were　truer。　　Experience　had　given　her　an　insight　into　the　characters　of　men　which　is　not　to　be　gained　in　the　library；　nor　in　the　worship　of　dead　heroes。　　If　it　had　not　shaken　her　faith　i