the women of the french salons-第61章
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it flashed and sparkled。 Dramas were playedthe 〃Zaire〃 and 〃Tancred〃 of Voltaire； and tragedies written by herself。 Mme。 Recamier acted the Aricie to Mme。 de Stael's Phedre。 This life that seems to us so fascinating； has been described too often to need repetition。 It had its tumultuous elements； its passionate undercurrents； its romantic episodes。 But in spite of its attractions Mme。 de Stael fretted under the peaceful shades of Coppet。 Its limited horizon pressed upon her。 The silence of the snowcapped mountains chilled her。 She looked upon their solitary grandeur with 〃magnificent horror。〃 The repose of nature was an 〃infernal peace〃 which plunged her into gloomier depths of ennui and despair。 To some one who was admiring the beauties of Lake Leman she replied； 〃I should like better the gutters of the Rue du Bac。〃 It was people； always people； who interested her。 〃French conversation exists only in Paris；〃 she said； 〃and conversation has been from infancy my greatest pleasure。〃 Restlessly she sought distraction in travel； but wherever she went the iron hand pressed upon her still。 Italy fostered her melancholy。 She loved its ruins； which her imagination draped with the fading colors of the past and associated with the desolation of a living soul。 But its exquisite variety of landscape and color does not seem to have touched her。 〃If it were not for the world's opinion；〃 she said； 〃I would not open my window to see the Bay of Naples for the first time； but I would travel five hundred leagues to talk with a clever man whom I have not met。〃 Germany gave her infinite food for thought； but her 〃astonishing volubility；〃 her 〃incessant movement；〃 her constant desire to know； to discuss； to penetrate all things wearied the moderate Germans； as it had already wearied the serious English。 〃Tell me； Monsieur Fichte；〃 she said one day； 〃could you in a short time； a quarter of an hour for example； give me a glimpse of your system and explain what you understand by your ME； I find it very obscure。〃 The philosopher was amazed at what he thought her impertinence； but made the attempt through an interpreter。 At the end of ten minutes she exclaimed； 〃That is sufficient； Monsieur Fichte。 That is quite sufficient。 I comprehend you perfectly。 I have seen your system in illustration。 It is one of the adventures of Baron Munchhausen。〃 〃We are in perpetual mental tension；〃 said the wife of Schiller。 Even Schiller himself grew tired。 〃It seems as if I were relieved of a malady；〃 he said； when she left。
It was this excess of vivacity and her abounding sensibility that constituted at once her fascination and her misfortune。 Her beliefs were enthusiasms。 Her friendships were passions。 〃No one has carried the religion of friendship so far as myself；〃 she said。 To love； to be loved was the supreme need of her soul； but her love was a flame that irradiated her intellect and added brilliancy to the life it consumed。 She paints in 〃Corinne〃 the passions； the struggles； the penalties； and the sorrows of a woman of genius。 It is a life she had known； a life of which she had tasted the sweetest delights and experienced the most cruel disenchantments。 〃Corinne〃 at the Capitol； 〃Corinne〃 thinking； analyzing； loving； suffering； triumphing； wearing a crown of laurel upon her head and an invisible crown of thorns upon her heartit is Mme。 de Stael self…revealed by the light of her own imagination。
It was in a moment of weakness and weariness； when her idols had one after another been shattered； and all the pleasant vistas of her youth seemed shut out forever； that she met M。 de Rocca； a wounded officer of good family； but of little more than half her years； whose gentle； chivalric character commanded her admiration； whose suffering touched her pity； and whose devotion won her affection。 〃I will love her so much that she will end by marrying me；〃 he said； and the result proved his penetration。 This marriage； which was a secret one； has shadowed a little the brilliancy of her fame； but if it was a weakness to bend from her high altitude； it was not a sin； though more creditable to her heart than to her worldly wisdom。 At all events it brought into her life a new element of repose； and gave her a tender consolation in her closing years。
When at last the relentless autocrat of France found his rock… bound limits； and she was free to return to the spot which had been the goal of all her dreams； it was too late。 Her health was broken。 It is true her friends rallied around her； and her salon； opened once more； retook a little of its ancient glory。 Few celebrities who came to Paris failed to seek the drawing room of Mme。 de Stael； which was still illuminated with the brilliancy of her genius and the splendor of her fame。 But her triumphs were past； and life was receding。 Her few remaining days of weakness and suffering； darkened by vain regrets； were passed more and more in the warmth and tenderness of her devoted family； in the noble and elevated thought that rose above the strife of politics into the serene atmosphere of a Christian faith。 At her death bed Chateaubriand did her tardy justice。 〃Bon jour； my dear Francis； I suffer； but that does not prevent me from loving you；〃 she said to one who had been her critic； but never her friend。 Her magnanimity was as unfailing as her generosity； and it may be truly said that she never cherished a hatred。
The life of Mme。 de Stael was in the world。 She embodied the French spirit； she could not conceive of happiness in a secluded existence； a theater and an audience were needed to call out her best talents。 She could not even bear her griefs alone。 The world was taken into her confidence。 She demanded its sympathy。 She chanted exquisite requiems over her dead hopes and her lost illusions； but she chanted them in costume； never quite forgetting that her role was a heroic one。 She added； however； to the gifts of an improvisatrice something infinitely higher and deeper。 There was no problem with which she was not ready to deal。 She felt the pulse beats in the great heart of humanity； and her tongue； her pen； her purse； and her influence were ever at the bidding of the unfortunate。 She traversed all fields of thought； from the pleasant regions of poetry and romance to the highest altitudes of philosophy。 We may note the drift of her ardent and imaginative nature in the youthful tales into which she wove her romantic dreams； her fancied griefs； her inward struggles； and her tears。 In the pages of 〃Corinne〃 we read the poetry； the sensibility； the passion； the melancholy； the thought of a matured woman whose youth of the soul neither sorrow nor experience could destroy。 We may divine the direction of her sympathies； and the fountain of her inspiration； in her letters on Rousseau； written at twenty； and foreshadowing her own attitude towards the theories which appealed so powerfully to the generous spirits of the century。 We may follow the active and scholarly workings of her versatile intellect in her pregnant thoughts on literature； on the passions； on the Revolution； or measure the clearness of her insight； the depth of her penetration； the catholicity of her sympathies； and the breadth of her intelligence in her profound and masterly； if not always accurate； studies of Germany。 The consideration of all this pertains to a critical estimate of her character and genius which cannot be attempted here。
It has grown to be somewhat the fashion to depreciate the literary work of Mme。 de Stael。 Measured by present standards she leaves something to be desired in logical precision； she had not the exactness of the critical scholar； nor the simplicity of the careful artist； the luxuriance of her language often obscures her thought。 She is talking still； and her written words have the rapid； tumultuous flow of conversation； together with its occasional negligences； its careless periods； its sudden turns； its encumbered phrases。 Misguided she sometimes was； and carried away by the resistless rush of ideas that； like the mountain torrent； gathered much debris along their course。 But her rapid judgments； which have the force of inspiration； are in advance of her time； though in th
