Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924083984363 3 1924 083 984 363 In Compliance with current copyright law, Cornell University Library produced this replacement volume on paper that meets the ANSI Standard Z39.48-1992 to replace the irreparably deteriorated original. 1998 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM Cony Sturgis WO^IAN IN FRANCE DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY , a;; 1,/* 11 V. 111,!-' J AH ii: ri i ;■ li WOMAN IN FRANCE DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY BY JULIA KAVANAGH AUTHOR OF 'MADELAINE: A TALE OF AUVERGNE' ETC. ETC. IX TWO VOMJMF,.=; VOL. I. WITH PORTRAITS C. 1'. PUTNAM'.S SONS NEW YORK LONDON 27 W, TWENTY-THIRD STREET 24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 1893 gl CONTENTS OF VOL. I. PERIOD THE FIRST— THE REGENCY. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. PAOE Preliminary Remarks — State o£ French Society at the close of Louis XIV. 's Reign, ... 3 CHAPTER I. The Regent- -His Court and his Family, . . .23 CHAPTER II. Madame du Maine — The Society of Sceaux — The Cellamare Conspiracy, . . . 39 CHAPTER III. The Countess of Verrue — Madame de Lambert — State of French Society during the Regency and the Period immediately following it — The Nun Tencin — Madame dePrie, ... . . 60 CHAPTER IV. Madame de Ferriol — Mademoiselle Aiss^, . . .74 VI CONTENTS. PERIOD THE SECOND— REIGN OF LOUIS XV. CHAPTER I. PAGE Retrospective View of the Regency — The First Bureaux d'Esprit — Madame de la Popeliniere — Madame de Tenciii , 89 CHAPTER II. The Court — Louis xv. — His Mistresses — Madame de Mailly — Madame de VintimiUe — Madame de Chateauroux, . 102 CHAPTER III. Voltaire and Madame du Chatelet, . . . .119 CHAPTER IV. The Philosophers — Literary Societies — Madame d'Epinay — Rousseau, . . 141 CHAPTER V. General Aspect of Society — Power of Woman — Madame du Deffand, . 160 CHAPTER VI. Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, . . .177 CHAPTER VIL Madame Geoffrin^Influence of the Bureaux d'Esprit, 193 CHAPTER VIII. Madame de Pompadour — Her Political Power and General Influence — Madame du Marchais and the Economists — Madame du Barry — Death of Louis xv. , . . . 207 AUTHORS CONSULTED. D'Abraiites, Madame Aiss^, Mademoiselle Albert, Mademoiselle Alison AUetn D'AngouIeme, Duchesse Argenson Barante Barr^re Beauchamps Beaumarchais Berryer Bourmiseanx Brougham Burton Campan, Madame Capefigue Carlyle Chauteaubriand Chateauroux, Madame de Clairon, Mademoiselle CUry Colet, Madame Custine Dangeau Deladine Desmoulins IDesodoards Dessales-Regis Dubois Deffand, Madame du Dulaure Dumont Dumouriez D'Epinay, Madame Franklin Garat Genlis, Madame de Georgel Gibbon Gozlan Grimm Guadet Guillen Hausset, Madame du Histoire de la Revolution Lacretelle Lamartine Lambert, Madame de Laugon Lespinasse, Mademoiselle de Levis Lonohamps Louvet Maine, Madame du Marivaux AUTIIOKS CONSULTED Marniontel Mcilhan Mi/moires sur Mirabeau Mercicr ilichaud Mignut Mirabeau : A Life-History Montgaillard Musset Necker, Madame Keeker de Saussure, Madame Privost Proussinale Prudhomme Riouffe Roohejaquelein, Madame de la Rousseau Saint-Simon Saint-Beuve Schlosser Si^'gur Segur, De Smythe Soulavie Souvestre Souvenirs, de R. D. G. Staal, Madame de Stael, Madame de Tencin, Madame de Thibeaudeau Thiers Toulongeon Villemaiii Voltaire Walpole Weber Williams, Helen-Maria PORTRAITS IN VOL. I. Madame de Pompadour, {To face Kile) DucHESsK Du Maine, . 39 Madame de Tenoin, . 66 Madame d0 Chatelet, 122 Madame do Barry, . 225 VOL. I. PERIOD THE FIRST. THE EEGENCY. VOL. I. WOMAN IN FRANCE DUEING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. INTEODUCTORY CHAPTER. PRELIMINARY EEMAEKS STATE OF FUENCH SOCIETY AT THE CLOSE OP LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH'S REIGN. In times still recent, in a nation celebrated for its power and greatness, and in an age ■wHch gave to thougM a vast and magnificent, even thougli perilous, development, a series of most remarkable women exercised a power so extensive, and yet so complete, as to be unparalleled in the history of their sex. They ruled society, as women of the world ; the empire of letters, as patronesses of the fine arts ; the state, as favourites and advisers of kings. They gave the tone to feeling, philo- sophy, and thought. Their caprice made wars, and signed treaties of peace. They hastened the fall of a Monarchy, and the outbreak of the greatest Revolution of modern times. They could attempt to check or direct that Revolution in its rapid and fearful course ; they shared to the fullest extent its errors, its crimes, and its heroic virtues. They suffered from its proscriptions like men, because like men they had striven ; and when their failing power seemed at its last ebb, it was stiU a woman who overthrew Robespierre, a woman who raised a solitary voice against the despotism of Napoleon. This power was not always pure or good : it was often 4 WOMAil IN FRANCE. corrupt in its source, evil and fatal in its results ; but it was power. Though, the historians of the period have never full3" or willingly acknowledged its existence, their silence cannot efface that which has been ; and without that rule of woman, so reluctantly recognised, many of their pages of statesman's policy, court intrigue, civU strife, or foreign war, need never have been written. To this remarkable feature of modem history, to the analysis of the power of Woman in France during the Eighteenth Century, the present work is devoted. We shall trace the progress of direct female influence, from the aged and severe Madame de Maintenon deserting the deathbed of Louis XIV. to the lovely and hapless Marie Antoinette ascending the scaffold of the Revolution. We shall mark Woman's social rule extending from princesses and favourites, like Madame du Maine and Madame de Pompadour to literary and noble ladies like the nun Tencin, Madame du Chatelet, the mistress of Voltaire, and Madame du Deffand, the friend of Walpole. From these, again, we shall see it descending to the heroines of the Bourgeoisie and the Eevolu- tion, Madame Eoland and Madame Tallien. It was chiefly in the eighteenth century that women exer- cised, to its fullest extent, the great and remarkable influence they always possessed in France. They were allowed no political rights, but society gave them the power denied by law. That power was paramount in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It had far more reality and truth than the idolatrous homage they received during the Middle Ages. Woman was then a being to be idealised and illustrated by fervent strains and chivalrous deeds ; but neither Paladin nor Troubadour submitted in reality to her abstract sway. Woman has seldom less true power than when the admiration and love of man are granted merely to her beauty and defenceless state. Such as it was, this influence tended, however, to modify the national character; to which it imparted that chivalrous gallantry and elegance, not unmixed with frivol- ousness, by which it was long distinguished. The progress of civilisation, which raised the moral and INTRODUCTORY. 5 iutellectual standard of woman, naturally extended her power. Towards the close of the Middle Ages, and the beginning of a new era, wc find her everywhere entering actively into the political and religious struggles which marked the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. This iufluence was increased in France by the three Quccns-Eegent, Catherine of Medici, Mary, her niece, and Anne of Austria. Woman now ostensibly took the lead in every intrigue. The wars of the Fronde, with Anne of Austria on one side, and on the other the haughty Mademoiselle de Montpensier, or the beautiful Duchess of Longueville, who made tools of Cond6 and Turenne, effectually distracted the kingdom during the minority of Louis XIV. When peace had succeeded to those troubled times, the celebrated soirees of the Hotel Kambouillet, presided over by the fair Julie d'Angennes, Mademoiselle de Scudfiri, Madame de Sevigne, and Madame de Lafayette, gave a new impulse to the literature of the day. Later still, the witty and accomplished, though profli- gate, Madame de Montespan, and her insinuating successor, Madame de Maintenon, can almost be said to have governed France under the name of the Grand Monarque. This power was the more important, that, for the greatest portion of Ms life, Louis XIV. completely ruled French society. His tastes for magnificence and war were the tastes of the nation. They gave to his government new power and new strength ; so that he could exclaim, with equal pride and truth, " L'ltat c'est moi." This despotic sway prepared, by its unity, the future greatness of France ; but it extinguished patriotism, by rendering the country subordinate to the sove- reign's personal honour and glory. Each change of the mon- arch's mood altered the aspect of his court ; and, if he governed Versailles, Versailles governed France. It was, therefore, only through Louis himself that women could rule. The influence of his mistresses was personal, like their lover's government. Through him, these highly-born and accomplished, thougli not very virtuous ladies, impressed their own character and spirit on the times in which they lived. In order to please 6 WOJrAN IN FEANCE. Mademoiselle do la ValliSre, the chivalrous amusements of the Middle Ages were resumed at court ; satire and intrigue prospered under Madame de Montespan ; asceticism and rigid devotion marked the sway of Madame de Maintenon. The opening of the eighteenth century, which gave more force and freedom to woman's power, also beheld the close of Louis XIV. 's reign. That long and imperious sway, which had united all the magnificence and glories of art to the most absolute despotism, was passing away in sadness and aus- terity. The couriers, who formerly brought tidings of vic- tory won, now told of heavy reverses and lost battles. The nation, drained of its resources to satisfy one man's ambition and pride, was evidently on the brink of bankruptcy. The gay and royal revels of the court had vanished, before vigils, fasts, and penitential gloom. More than monastic silence and seclusion shrouded the splendours of Versailles. The king no longer listened to the stately tragedies of Eacine, or to the gay comedies of Moliere, surrounded by a host of beautiful women and courtly nobles. Apart, in a gloomy and retired chamber, he sat, between his confessor and the withered Madame de Maintenon, a feeble, querulous, but stiU despotic, old man, who vainly sought to impart his own melancholy asceticism to France. The court and nation rebelled against the power to which they had submitted so long. Louis XIV. saw, with indigna- tion and dismay, that his influence was no longer acknow- ledged ; that, though he had grown penitent and devout, the world still remained unconverted, and chose to indulge in those follies of youth over which he now mourned in his old age. Deep homage surrounded him still : but where was the reality of that homage ? An irrepressible longing for a new and younger reign was abroad. This spirit of innovation was odious to the old monarch ; not only because it anticipated his death, but, still more, because it threatened to destroy the labours of his whole existence. He knew that the princes of the blood only waited his decease in order to assert their long- restrained freedom. His grandson, the Duke of Burgundy, INTRODUCTORY. 7 the heir of his absolute power — a grave, religious prince, pupil of Fln61on — spoke of the rights of the people, and of the duties of monarchs. The duchess, his wife, a gay and grace- ful princess, hinted that the pleasures of the new court would compensate for the gloom of the old one. The young Duke of Orleans, the future Regent of France, condemned to inac- tivity through the jealousy of his uncle, avenged himself by braving his power. Gathering around him a circle of licen- tious nobles, he carried on with them the grossest orgies, in which the names of the monarch and Madame de Maintenon were uttered with sarcasm and scorn. The Prince and Prin- cess of Conti aflfected to treat with familiar freedom the authors whom their independence of thought and speech ren- dered obnoxious to the king. Defjdng the prejudice against authorship, the princess took the character of a literary woman.* Her sister, Madame du Maine, wife of the sove- reign's eldest legitimised son, shunned the gloomy court of her father-in-law. She made her delightful residence at Sceaux the resort of the wits of the day. A constant inter- change of epigrams, madrigals, and poetical epistles, was carried on between the guests and their princely hostess, who daily acted the comedies of MoliSre and the tragedies of Racine with Baron the actor ; thus violating the strict eti- quette introduced by Louis XIV. as the safeguard of royalty. The monarch vainly sought to check this spirit of weariness and ennui at his protracted reign. It pervaded even his own family circle. The eldest Princess of Conti, his daughter by Mademoiselle de la VaUi§re, ridiculed him and Madame de Maintenon in her private letters. Her sister. Mademoiselle de Nantes, Duchess of Bourbon, and celebrated, like her mother, Madame de Montespan, for her beauty and satirical wit, lamented, in petulant effusions, the fate of youth and beauty compelled to reside among the old pedants of an anti- quated court. With more candour than charity she ex- claimed : — ' She translated into Frencli Pope's " Rape of the Lock." 8 WOMAN IN FRANCE. " All ! qu'uuo vieillo cour est hidousc ! On n*y parlo jamais ni d' amour ni d'amans ; Qu*ude princesse est malheureuse D'y passer ses plus jeunes ans ! Que c*est une chose ennuyeuse Do no voir que do vieui pedants ! " Such epigrams and noals then enjoyed extreme popularity. Both courtiers and people felt avenged when they could laugh at the common oppressor. The police watched and punished in vain. The thought of a nation will ever assert its freedom. Supple as they were by nature, the courtiers could not always disguise their real feelings. The witty Madame de Caylus, niece of Madame de Maintenon, being exiled from Versailles for having ridiculed the devout party, frankly exclaimed, on receiving the order of her banishment, " that the ennui felt at court rendered it the real place of exUe." Madame de Main- tenon herself was overpowered with the dulncss of this vast prison-house. " Ah ! " said she to a friend who seemed to envy her proud destiny, " if you knew what it is to have to amuse a man whom nothing can amuse ! " The faded glory of his reign, the gloom and reverses which darkened its close, the impatience of the new generation, the ill-concealed ennui of his children and friends, — all told Louis XIV., with a significance and eloquence he could not misun- derstand, that his sway had lasted too long ; that it was time for him to depart. But the old king resisted this charge with all the strength of his despotic will If he could not create rehgious feeling, he at least exacted hypocrisy. A royal guard, on duty in the chapel at Versailles, desirous of amus- ing himself at the expense of the court ladies, one day declared in their presence that his majesty did not intend assisting at the religious service then going to take place. The ladies, wisely concluding that if the king was not to be present their devotion would be very uselessly thrown away, dropped oflF one by one. Louis XIV came as usual, and was amazed to see the chapel empty, until the guard informed him of his mischievous trick. A large party at court did not, however choose to practise this restraint : the young and profliurc and elegant phraseology to those who lived in her intimacy. The charac- ter of JIadame du Maine, which was a compound of super- ficial wit, ambition, and caprice, did not ada[it her, however, to the high political part she was anxious to act. She was bold, active, and vehement, but deficient in moral courage. She could struggle long and perseveringly for any object in view, — and whether this object was the discovery of the magic square or the regency of the kingdom, she displayed equal energy : but there was more restlessness than deter- mination in her character ; and she never learned to bear, with even common equanimity, the misfortunes occasioned by her own imprudence. Her temjier was violent, fickle, and selfish. Notwithstanding her wit and learning, she had a great horror of solitude and ennui, and could not dispense with the society of those individuals for whom she cared least. " I am very fond of company," she frankly said, " for I listen to no one, and every one listens to me.'' She was accordingly seldom to be found alone. The crowd which surrounded her was not always very select. Her old admirer, Saint- Aulaire, who professed a romantic passion for her, and whom she called her shepherd, tired of this noisy and uninteresting assemblage, once impatiently asked her what she wanted with persons so little suited to her. "My dear shepherd," she candidly answered, " I am so unhappy as not to be able to do vrithout that which I do not need in the least." This frankness originated in the Duchesse du Maine from tempera- ment, reasoning, and selfish indifference to those around her. " I never tell a lie — I never attempt to dissemble," she once composedly observed ; " because I know very well that no one can ever be deceived." Notwithstanding the numerous faults which she unreservedly displayed to her most devoted adherents, there was about this clever and volatile princess an irresistible charm, that never failed to fascinate those who lived in her intimacy. Her Eoyal Highness was not only fond of intellectual com- pany ; she also liked to indulge in those literary and platonic J[ADAME DU MAINE. 41 friendsliips set in fashion b}' the precieusos of the Hotel Eam- bouillet, a few of whom she Iiad known in her younger days. She was accordingly surrounded, at her residences of Sceaux and Anet, witli a chorus of adoring and versifying shepherds, of whom Saint-Aulaire was the chief, and who, even when the princess's few charms had long faded away, affected a mortal jealousy of one another. Amongst these shepherds, !Malesieu, her grave tutor in classical lore, held high literary sway. " His decisions," says the lively Madame de Staal, " had the same infaUibUity as those of Pythagoras with his disciples. The most ardent disputes were silenced as soon as the words, he has said it, were heard." La Mothe, the relentless foe of versification, ranked amongst the platonic admirers of Madame du Maine. Her correspond- ence with him, though little known and less read, stUl exists : it is the verj' essence of that light and frivolous esprit, which is rather an agreeable intellectual vivacity, than what we call wit. Those letters, if not intended for publication, were at least written to be widely read, like almost all the letters of this artificial period ; Madame du Maine's were gravely dis- cussed at the house of Madame de Lambert, where a polite assembly met every Tuesday. The princess, in her turn, cir- culated the epistles she received amongst her jealous shep- herds. She playfully complains to De la Mothe of their tyranny ; and he, in the same tone, explains the transports he experienced on receiving her last letter, brought expressly from Sceaux by a courier. Notwithstanding the insignificance of the whole correspondence, the feeling that it need never have been written, and that it is scarcely worth being read, it nevertheless possesses a certain nameless and well-bred grace of its own, which carries us back at once to the polished and frivolous circles of those times. The amusements and platonic affections of Madame du Maine did not absorb her so far as to deaden her ambition. Her volatile temper rendered her no great favourite with either the austere old king or his sedate wife : she neverthe- less paid her court very assiduously ; and, taking advantage 42 WOJtAN IN FEANCE. of the great fricudsliip Madame de Jtlaiiiteiioii felt for her husband, earnestly besought to be considered as her daughter. The king, Madame de Maintcnon, and Madame du Maine, all laboured to effect the aggrandisement of the duke ; who, though not without ambition, was too weak and timid to labour in his own cause. The violent temper of his wife — little as she was, she had the reputation of beating him — and her tumultuous amusements at Sceaux, made him live with as great a degree of retirement as he could indulge in. De- formed, grave, and learned, he occupied himself with transla- tions from the classics ; whilst his active wife moved heaven and earth to secure him the regency at the death of the king. It was quite in vain she endeavoured to rouse him ; the Duke of Maine had not even dormant energies to awaken : so his wife had at length discovered, when she bitterly exclaimed : "You will find, on awakening some day, that you are a member of the Academy, and that the Duke of Orleans is regent of the kingdom." Only the latter part of the predic- tion was fulfilled. The ambition of Madame du Maine was not purely political She aimed at being considered the patroness of talent ; but, though she could appreciate wit and light literature, she wanted the discernment necessary to encourage genius. Her liking for poetry was very pecuHar. She seemed to consider it in the light of an art to be exercised for the particular pleasure of princes and princesses. When she was ill, she said to those around her : " Write verses for me : I feel it is only verses that can give me any relief." Her patronage of literary men proved useful, however, to her political designs, and was favoured by the carelessness of the regent; who allowed " the little wasp of Sceaux," as he called her, to gather around her all the malcontents whom his government had made. It was in her magnificent residence at Sceaux, where she lived in almost royal style, that Madame du Maine carried on her ambitious plans, under the mask of frivolous amusements connected with her order of the Honey Bee ; and that she received, with inimitable grace and tact, the THE SOCIETY OF SCBAUX. 43 guests ■whom her inclination or her policy had drawn to- gether. Seldom had there been seen an assemblage more brilliant in wit or in courtly graces, than that which gathered in the shady gardens of Sceaus. Elegant and accomplished women, many of them remarkable for their beauty, and a few for intrigues, over which they threw at least a veH of decency unknown at the court of the regent, daily mingled with men of great wit and talents, which were too often wasted in those entertaining, but unprofitable assemblies. Amongst Madame du Maine's most constant guests were the President Renault, known for his songs and bon mots ; the old Saint- Aulaire, whose hopeless passion for the duchess was expressed in languishing madrigals ; Malesieu, her learned tutor, who read the tragedies of Sophocles to this careless assemblage ; Chaulieu, the gay abbe and charming poet, whose wit, naivete, and finesse, seemed unimpaired by old age ; Genest, author of admired tragedies now forgotten, who has bequeathed to posterity a faithful account of the gaieties of Sceaux ; and Vaubrun, the grave and obsequious courtier, who treated trifles with solemn gravity, lived in an atmosphere of fetes, poKte phrases, and etiquette, till he was actually termed, by Madame du Maine, " le sublime du frivole.'' The seductions of this witty and refined society attracted many occasional visitors ; of these were the brUhant Fontenelle ; La Mothe, the ingenious antagonist of Madame Dacier; J. B. Eousseau, the poet, and that young and daring Arouet, who had not yet acquired European fame under the name of Voltaire. A few of Madame du Maine's guests were destined to serve her political views. The handsome, elo- quent, and insirmating Cardinal de Polignac, who plotted with her against the regent, vainly affected to be absorbed by his Latin poem of " Anti-LucrSce," in order to give a literary cloak to his visits. The gloomy and bitter poet, Lagrange Chancel, took less pains to conceal that hatred of the regent which he expressed in his powerful, though repulsive, philippics. De Mesmes, the president, through whom Madame du Maine influenced the parliament, and 44 WOMAN IN FKANCE. the ambitious young Duke of Richelieu, were amongst those guests whom common interests, more than sympathy with its mistress, drew to Sceaux. The individuals who composed this elegant little court, shared their days between intellectual pursuits and luxurious indolence. The madrigals of M. de Saint-Aulaire, or the epistles of Chaulieu ; the philippics of Lagrange Chancel ; fragments of Arouet's CEdipe, that bitter satire of the regent's profligacy ; M. du Maine's translation of the Cardinal de Polignac's Anti-LucrSce, and other productions, since buried in oblivion, ministered to their daily amusement. The even- ings were devoted to the card-table, to dancing, theatrical performances, and fetes in the open air, of the duchess's fan- tastical order of the Honey Bee. The women who shared this frivolous existence are, with a few exceptions, unknown to posterity : one of them, however, has left a name destined to survive the short-lived glitter of those splendid festivities, in which her humble condition forbade her to mingle openly. We allude to Mademoiselle de Launay, whose charming Memoirs have rendered her so well known, under the name of Baroness of Staal, but who was then only one of Madame du Maine's femmes de chambres. A series of misfortunes had reduced Mademoiselle de Launay to this lowly station. Obscure by her birth, but superior to most women of rank by the brilliant education she had received in a convent of Normandy, of which the abbess had taken her under her express protection, the young girl grew up in a refined atmosphere, and surrounded by all the luxuries of wealth. Her studies shewed the bent of her mind : she cared little for poetry and music, but made con- siderable progress in geometry, and even took a tincture of anatomy ; Mallebranche and Des Cartes were her favourite authors. Though her personal attractions were never great, her graceful wit gained her many admirers, amongst whom were Vertot, the celebrated historian, and a gentleman named Eey, whose feelings, though at first very ardent, gradually cooled. Of this Mademoiselle de Launay soon acquired geo- THE SOCIETY OF SCEAUX. 45 metrical proof. M. de Key was in tlie habit of seeing her home, occasionally, from the house of a mutual friend. " We were then obliged," she observes, " to cross a wide place, and, in the commencement of our acquaintance, he always walked along the sides of this place ; but I now saw that he simply traversed it in the middle, whence I concluded that his love had diminished in the same proportion which exists between the diagonal of a square and the sides of the same." Made- moiselle de Launay's geometry was evidently practical. The death of her benefactress threw her, unprotected, on the world at the age of seventeen. Fortunately for herself, the young girl possessed courage and a strong sense of inde- pendence. She firmly refused every offer of pecuniary assist- ance, and proceeded to Paris, where an intimate friend of Madame du Maine, the Duchess de la Fert6, took her under her protection. This kind, though capricious lady, was greatly pleased with Mademoiselle de Launay, whom she exhibited to her acquaintances in the character of a prodigy, regardless of the humiliation and deep shame of her protegee. "Come, mademoiselle," she once exclaimed, in the presence of a friend, " speak." To the visitor : " You will hear how she talks. Speak a little about religion, — ^you can say some- thing else afterwards." Though thus put to the test. Made- moiselle de Launay's conversational powers did not desert her. The reputation of her wit soon extended to the httle court of Madame du Maine, who thought of confiding to her the education of her ovra daughter. But, as the first novelty of her appearance wore off, the plan was abandoned. The fickle Duchess de la Fert^ became, moreover, offended with her protegSe ; and when Mademoiselle de Launay applied to Malesieu for the place which had been promised her, he replied, that the only place Madame du Maine could offer now was that of attendant on her own person. The unhappy girl had no resource but to submit to this degrading offer : she keenly felt, however, the humiliations of her new position. Those persons who had admired her most during her tem- porary Iclat, now affected to shun her ; and Madame du 4G WOMAN IN FRANCE. Maine, on whom she waited daily, scarcely deigned to seem conscious of her existence. A trifling incident drew her from this obscurity. A beautiful girl, named Mademoiselle Tctard, who endea- voured to pass herself off for an inspired sybil, had drawn down some ridicule on Fontenelle : the celebrated author of the " Histoire des Oracles'' was seriously asserted to have acknowledged her power. " De Lauuay, you ought to write to M. de Fontenelle, and tell him what the world thinks of him," carelessly observed Madame du Maine to her young attendant. Mademoiselle de Launay, who was acquainted with the witty philosopher, wrote to him the same day. Fon- tenelle was pleased with the graceful raillery of her letter, and shewed it in the evening to some friends, who had, laughingly, brought up the subject of Mademoiselle Tetard. The letter was read and admired ; the persons present took copies of it, which were freely circulated over all Paris on the following day. In those times, when a well-turned madrigal could open the doors of the French Academy to Saint-Aulaire, it was only natural that Mademoiselle de Launa^s letter should enjoy great success. In the meantime, the writer, unconscious of her sudden popularity, continued to wait on her princely mistress, and to signalise herself by that awkwardness in fill- ing the duties of her place, which had brought her into great contempt among the body of the waiting-maids. Madame du Maine learned by accident the fame acquired by her attendant r she was astonished, and henceforth took more notice of Mademoiselle de Launay ; around whom now secretly gathered many of the remarkable men who came to Sceaux, and who often deserted the saloons of their princely hostess, for the gloomy and comfortless room of her witty femme de chambre. The Abbe de Vaubrun, the assiduous courtier already alluded to, soon requested Mademoiselle de Launay's assist- ance for a fete, which Madame du Maine's predilectiim for late amusements induced him to offer her. The Goddess of Night, personated by Mademoiselle de Launay, accordingly THE SOCIETY OF SCEAUX. 47 appeared before licr royal liiglincss, and tlianked her, in a set speech, for the preference she gave the night over daytime. This was the origin of the nuits blanches, to which the courtly Dangeau thus alludes in his journal : — " Monda}', 3d of De- cember 1714. JIadame, the Duchess of Maine, who is always at Sceaux, and will not return until the end of the month, continues her festivities. She acts Athalie, and the most con- siderable persons about court are present. From time to time there is also at Sceaux what is called the nuits blanches. They are marked by great magnificence and wit." These festivities were offered to Madame du Maine by her guests, according to an alphabetical lottery which they had established. He who drew out the letter B was bound to give a ballet ; C was for comedy ; for opera ; and so on with the rest of the alphabet. Mademoiselle de Launay com- posed for the nuits blanches several ingenious plays, which added to their lustre. The death of Louis XIV., and the events by which it was followed, interrupted, for a time, these frivolous gaieties. Madame du Maine now removed to Paris, and took up her abode in the TuUeries. Mademoiselle de Launay, whose task it was to read her mistress to sleep, soon acquired a large share of her confidence, and was initiated into all her hopes and schemes for the future. But, though she rose so much into favour as to relinquish her duties of attendant, and to be allowed a maid of her own, the occasional hauteur of the duchess never allowed her to forget her subordinate position. The world was less rigorous. Though she had only an obscure little room, without window or fireplace, in which to receive her friends, Mademoiselle de Launay gaUy confesses that she was never at a loss for company. The witty Duke of Brancas, FonteneUe, Remond, and the Abb6 de Chaulieu, (who, though blind and near eighty, professed a romantic attachment for her,) were amongst those persons who willingly overlooked the narrow lodging of the young femme de chambre for the sake of her society. The harmless passion of Chaulieu, which he expresses in some of the last verses he ever wrote, rendered 48 WOMAN IN FUANCE. the life of Mademoiselle de Launay very pleasant. His car- riage was always at her disposal; he never visited her but with her express permission ; and, whenever she agreed to honour them with lier presence, he gave elegant fetes, where the most select company of Paris was assembled, for her amusement. The intrigues of Madame du. Maine, in which Mademoiselle de Launay was called to join, soon disturbed this agreeable life. The active duchess was then busily engaged in repulsing the attacks of her numerous enemies. The weakness of the Duke of Maine encouraged the princes of the blood to protest again.st the edicts by which the legitimised children of Louis XIV. had been rendered their equals in rank. Madame du Maine answered this attack by a memorial, in which the rights of the legitimised princes were defended by all the arguments ancient or modern history could furnish. She was assisted in her labours by the Cardinal de Polignac, Malesieu, and Mademoi- selle de Launay. The hours which had formerly been given to pleasure were now devoted to study; and the bed of the duchess was nightly covered with huge folios, under which, as she laughingly observed, she lay buried, like Enceladus beneath Mount Etna. When excess of fatigue caused her to relinquish her task, she was read to sleep by Mademoiselle de Launay ; who, in her turn, endeavoured to snatch a few hours of troubled repose. The memorial proved ineffectual, and the legitimised princes were deprived of the right of succession to the crown. As an answer to Madame du Maine's threats of revenge, the regent, moreover, took from her husband the superintendence of the young king's education, in presence of the parliament ; whose resistance to the introduction of Law's system he ascribed to her influence. The Duke of Maine and the Count of Toulouse, who both assisted at the proceedings, withdrew, on the first hint of the measures which were going to be taken against them. The parliament witnessed the degradation of their protector, and saw their own edicts against Law broken by the regent's council, without venturing to remonstrate. When her THE SOCIETY OF SCEAUX. 49 husband and her brother-in-law appeared before her, humble and crest-fallen, Madame du Maine upbraided them for their cowardice, in the most bitter and violent language. The weak President de Mesmes she treated with deep and sarcastic con- tempt. When she was compelled to leave the apartment in the Tuileries, attached to the possession of her husband's late office, she displayed her violent temper and want of real dignity, by breaking all the looking-glasses, porcelains, and other fra- gile ornaments which it contained. Prudent remonstrances she treated with sovereign contempt ; and in the height of her exasperation, unhesitatingly exclaimed : " My husband and his brothers are cowards : I — though only a woman — feel myself capable of asking an audience from the regent, and plunging a dagger in his heart." Madame, who believed " the little dwarf " capable of any violence, felt really alarmed for her son's safety. Though he laughed at her fears, the regent kept a strict watch on the motions of the duchess. Madame du Maine was, indeed, bent upon revenge ; her projects were favoured by the state of the country. The liberal policy, affected by the Duke of Orleans at the opening of the regency, was soon relinquished by him ; with it vanished his brief popularity. The privileges granted to the parliamentary party had rendered them desirous of emulating the freedom and power of the English Commons. In order to check this spirit, the Duke of Orleans broke their edicts, and finally deprived them of the right of remonstrance. This arbitrary conduct created deep discontent in Paris. The provinces were equally inimical to the regent. The despotic centralisation of monarchy under Eichelieu and Louis XIV., which led to future greatness and freedom, was still considered oppressive and tyrannical The sense of local independence was so strong in Brittany, that the states refused to pay the taxes laid upon them by the regent, and carried on secret in- trigues with Alberoni ; offering to recognise his master, Philip v., regent, provided their province should become once more an independent duchy. Madame du Maine shewed much ability in turning this general discontent to her own advan- VOL. I. D 50 WOMAN IN FRANCE. tage : she encoiimgod tlic piirliaiiieMt, iiri>iiii.si WOMAN IN FRANCE. llaidce or Aisse — the two names api)car to be identical — for the sum of fifteen hundred livios. On returning to France, ho confided tlio child to his sister-in-law, Jladanic de Ferriol, and then went back once more to Constantinople, where he resided as ambassador until the year 1711. Aissc, as she still continued to be called, although she had been baptized under the name of Charlotte, was kindly treated by Madame de Ferriol, by whom she was brought up on a footing of equality with her two sons. D'Argental and Pont- do-Veyle always loved their adopted sister very tenderly. The beauty of Mademoiselle Aisse was remarkable, even in that age of beautiful women : it blended the passion and fire of the East with the classical outline of Grecian loveliness, and the animated grace of France. She was about the middle height, of an elegant figure and a graceful carriage ; her com- plexion had, in youth, that dazzling bloom and transparent purity which is still the boast of the fine Circassian races ; her eyes, dark, soft, and lustrous, shone with truly Eastern splendour; her oval and delicate countenance expressed the goodness, candour, and finesse of her character. Aisse attracted considerable attention in the circle of Madame de Ferriol : her extreme loveliness was not her only charm. If she was neither brilliant nor witty, she possessed, however, all the tact and delicacy of a fine nature : she spoke well, but little, for her disposition was naturally retiring. It is easy to judge of what her conversational powers may have been by the letters she has left. The style in which they arc written, though natural and elegant, is frequently careless and incorrect : it has not that precision and purity of idiom which characterise Madame de Staal's language, nor the strength and wit of Madame du Defl'and's. The merits of Mademoiselle Aisse's writings are by no means literary ; they spring from the truth and tenderness of her heart, from the natural humility and delicacy of her mind, and from the sincere and honest abhorrence she ever displays against the profli- gacy and vices of the age. It was this union of rare per- sonal attractions and of the most noble and amiable MADEMOISELLE AISSE. 77 qualities of the heart which led a contemporary poet to ex- claim — " Aisse de la Grece €puisa la beautu ; EUe a do la France emprunto Lcs charmcs de Tesprit, de I'air, et du langage. Pour le coeur je n*y comprends rien ; Dans quel lieu s'esfc-elle adresaee ? II n'en est plus commo le slen Dcpuis rSigo d'or ou I'Aafcree.'' Aisse was in all the bloom and fresliness of her beauty wlien M. de Ferriol returned to France. He was on the verge of seventy ; his prot6g6e was barely seventeen. He endeavoured, nevertheless, to inspire her with a more tender feeling than gratitude ; and when he failed entirely, he asserted his right over her in a tone of oriental despotism. He re- minded her that she was his : that he had bought her ; and he ended by pleading his love, and offering her a share in all his possessions. In order to escape this persecution, Aisso appealed to her adopted brother, D'Argental, whose interfer- ence and remonstrances at length convinced her ancient admirer of the uselessness of his suit. M. de Ferriol con- sented to be reasonable, and to receive from Aisse — all she could give — the affection and devotedness of a daughter. It was in this character that she remained with him until his deatk If M. de Ferriol, notwithstanding his years, could not remain insensible to the grace and beauty of the young Circassian, others found the task equally difficult. Boling- broke did not fall in love with her, probably because he knew that love would be unavailing ; but in his letters he alludes, TOth evident affection and tenderness, to " the dear Circassian," and " the charming Ai'ssS ; " declaring, " that he would sooner have found the secret of pleasing her than the quadrature of the circle." The regent, who met Iijademoisellc Aisse at the house of his mistress, Madame de Parab6re — such was the profligacy of the age, that none of the young girl's protectors objected to her intimacy with this abandoned woman — expressed his admiration in more explicit language. Stung and astonished 7S WOMAN IN FEANCE. with her coldness, which only heightened his passion, he endeavoured to seduce her by the most brilliant offers. Alssc finnly and indignantly refused ; and from that time carefully sliunnod his presence. !RIadame de Ferriol learned, with much vexation, the scruples of the young girl, who had certainly not been reared in a very virtuous atmosphere. That she should have refused to become the mistress of her old brother- in-law was perfectly right and justifiable ; but that the same reluctance should extend to the first prince of the blood and regent of the kingdom, was not to be conceived. Madame de Ferriol was ambitious ; the Mar6chal d'Uxelles was deserting her : might not Aissc prove the stepping-stoue to a new and more dazzling fortune than the first ? She urged her to yield ; she combated her arguments ; she called her moral scrujjles folly ; and exhorted her to do as all around her did. Aissc was young, inexperienced, and pliable by nature. The world in which she had spent her youth was so corrupt that her sense of moral right or wrong was never fully developed. She gradually confessed the truth of Madame de Ferriol's reasoning ; but, when her unworthy protectress thought her- self assured of the wished-for triumph, another obstacle arose, . — the young girl declined to become the mistress of the regent : no longer on moral grounds, but on the plea that she did not, and could never love him. Unlike the noble and freeborn ladies of France, the Circassian slave, bought in the market of Constantinople, inexorably refused to sell herself for gold or power. This time, all the reasoning of Madame de Ferriol could not vanquish the resistance of Aissl. When the persecution she endured at length became intolerable, the young girl threw herself at the feet of her protectress, conjur- ing her, in the name of Heaven, to cease mentioning this hateful subject ; and declaring, with unexpected vehemence, that if it were urged again she would retire to a convent. Madame de Ferriol, alarmed at a threat which would have deprived her society of its greatest attraction, sullenly desisted from her project, but never forgave Madeiuoisclle ATsse this mortifying disappointment. MADEMOISELLE AISSE 79 At tlio liousc of Madame dii Dcffand, already known for her wit, beauty, and equivocal conduct, AVsse met a Knight of Malta, without cither rank or wealth ; but whose love she knew not liow to resist, like that of the licentious Prince Regent. The Chevalier d'Aydie was young, brave, and hand- some : a true hero of romance ; with a disposition so loyal and so noble, that even the sceptical Voltaire called him, " Le chevalier sans peur et sans reproche." The young knight no sooner beheld Mademoiselle Aissd than lie became deeply enamoured. She returned his love : there existed only one obstacle to this deep and mutual passion. The parents of the Chevalier d'Aydie, who were as poor as they were noble, had early compelled him to enter the military order of the Knights of Saint John. He had, several years before their first meeting, taken the vows which bound him to lead a life of celibacy. It was then, in the struggle which conscience a while maintained against passion, that all the fatal arguments of Madame do Ferriol recurred to the mind of Aiss6. She yielded to their force ; and her protectress, satisfied at the humiliation of a virtue which had been a silent reproach to her own misconduct, openly sanctioned, between her ward and the Chevalier d'Aydie, a connexion which was only treated as a matter of course by the society in which they moved. Repentance and shame entered the soul of Aiss6 too late. With the connivance of Madame de ViUette, who feigned to take her to England, whilst she left her in a retired quarter of Paris, she gave birth to a daughter, unsuspected. Her child was afterwards placed in a provincial convent, where she passed under the name of Miss Black, niece of Lord Bolingbroke. But though appearances, which were still of paramount importance in that corrupt world, were thus saved, the sense of shame and degradation never left Mademoiselle Aiss6's mind, naturally too pure and delicate for the errors into which her unhappy education had made her fall The birth of their child only increased the passion of the Chevalier d'Aydie. He had already offered his mistress to procure a dispensation from the Pope, f the world, who to their general licentiousness united a voluptuous taste for the fine arts, mingled with singers, musicians, painters, and poets, in the drawing-room of the graceful Madame de la Popcliniere. This lady, herself the daughter of an actress, and the wife of one of the wealthiest farmers-general of the day, was admirably adapted to connect the degenerate scions of a reck- less nobility with the men who administered to their pleasures. She helped to found the loose and degraded school of art which had already superseded the stately magnificence intro- duced under Louis XIV., and which was afterwards brought to its highest point by the patronage of Madame de Pompa- dour. M. de la Popeliniere was one of those opulent fin- anciers whose intercourse and alliances with the nobility had enabled them to acquire all the external polish of the upper ranks of society. The growing importance of this class was n revolution in the manners of the nation, which foreboded one in the form of their government. M. de la Popeliniere's osten- tatious patronage of artists had won for him the title of the French Meaenas. Kameau, the composer; Vaucanson, the mechanician ; Vanloo, the painter ; his lovely wife, who intro- duced Italian singing into France ; Lany, the dancer, with poets like the rosy Abbg de Bernis or the heavy Bernard, (so inappropriately named " le gentil,") represented art and poetry at the house of the rich financier. Madame de la Popeliniere was far superior to her husband. Her mother. Mademoiselle Daucour, had educated her for the stage, ou which she would probably have figured ^vith much applause, if M. de la PopeliniSre, fascinated by her beautj' and elegant wit, had not made her his mistress. Mademoiselle Daucour reijrcsented herself to Madame do Teucin as having been seduced by her lover ; and so interested her protectress in her behalf, that she mentioned her case to the prime minister. The act of openly keeping a mistress was a luxury MADAME DE LA POPELINIERE. 95 as yet scarcely authorised among tlic bourgeoisie : vice was still considered the privilege of the noble and tlie great. Fleury exacted tliat M. dc la Popclinicre should marry Ma- demoiselle Daucour ; threatening, in case of refusal, to with- draw the lease which he held from the king as farmer-general. M. de la Popclinicre complied ; but he never forgave his mis- tress the means she had taken to secure the rank of his wife. Madame de la Popclinicre soon became one of the most admired women of the Parisian world. She adapted herself to her new position with singular case and tact, and did the honours of her husband's house with the utmost grace and affability. Her wit and taste became celebrated ; the latter quality was especially displayed in the judgments she passed on all the works of art or literature submitted to her : she was soon thought infallible in such matters. An appeal against any of her decisions was, untU J. B. Rousseau came, a thing almost unheard of. Marmontel, an excellent judge on these subjects, and by no means prejudiced in her favour, speaks of her talents as a critic with the highest praise. "Madame de la Popclinicre," he observes, in his Memoirs, "paid me some attention. She wished me to read 'Aristo- inSne' to her ; and of all the critics I had consulted she was, in my opinion, the best. After hearing my tragedy, she analyzed it with singular clearness and precision ; retraced the course of the action, scene by scene ; remarked the passages which she had found beautiful, as well as those she thought feeble ; whilst all the corrections she proposed struck me as so many rays of light. A perception so lively, so rapid, and yet so just, astonished the whole company ; and, though at this reading I received abundant applause, I must say that her success eclipsed mine." The successes of Madame de la Popeliniere were short lived. She engaged, through mere vanity, in an intrigue with lliche- liou, which her husband discovered. He made her a hand- some allowance, but would no longer allow her to reside under his roof. Madame de la Popclinicre was thus excluded for ever from that elegant society over which she had ruled 96 WOMAN IN FHANCE. with SO iiiucL grace : for tLc I'arisiaii world adoijtcd tlie Spartan inaxiiii of puiiisliiiig, not those who sinned, but those wlio did not sin cleverly enough. A painful illness cut licr off in tlic flower of her age : grief and ennui aggravated her sufferings : the Duke of Eichelieu, however, paid her great attention until her death, and was lauded to the skies for this heroic constancy. Whilst Madame de la I'opcliniere represented the artistic tendencies of society, the more strictly intellectual portion — the men of science and daring thought — gathered around Madame de Tencin ; that queen of heaux-esprits, as she was then called. After acting the part of a profligate intrigante under the regency, Madame de Tencin, under the ministry of Floury, seemingly gave iip her intrigues, and was satisfied with keeping one of the earliest and most celebrated bureaux d'esprits of the eighteenth century. Fleury, who feared and disliked her, did not venture to oppose this branch of her power : he even submitted to her influence more than he imagined ; for, whilst he often yielded to the advice of his old friend, ^Madame de Carignan, this lady was wholly under the guidance of Madame de Tencin. Not satisfied with this influence, the ex-nun wished to govern through her brother. Her intrigues procured him the highest dignities of the Church, but failed in raising him to the rank of minister. This want of success in her most ardent wish made her give more time and attention than she might otherwise have granted to her literary society. We have already alluded to it in the preced- ing pages, but its most brilliant epoch was certainly during the ministry of Fleury. This little coterie, more truly select and intellectual than any of those by which it was succeeded, has been described with much liveliness by Marmontel : " I there saw assembled, Montesquieu, Fontenello, Mairan, Mari- vaux, the young Helvctius, Astruc, and others, all literary or scientific men ; and in the midst of them a woman of singular talents and profound judgment, but who, with her plain and simple exterior, had more the look of the housekeeper than of the mistress. This was Madame de Tencin I MADAME DE TENCIN. 97 soon perceived tliat eacli guest came there ready to act his part, and that the wish of shining often prevented conversation from following an easy and natural course. Every one seemed anxious to seize, as quickly as possible, and as it flew by, the opportune moment of uttering his bon-mot and his anecdote, — of ushering his maxim or his trail of light and brilliant wit j and this necessary I, propos was often rather far-fetched. In Marivaux the impatient wish of displaying his sagacity and finesse was visibly manifested. Montesquieu waited with more calmness until the ball should come to him, but he waited for it nevertheless ; Mairan watched for the favourable opportunity ; Astruc disdained to wait ; Fontenelle alone let it come to him without seeking for it, and he made so discreet ' M/^ CpK/f/fyeZ/J VOLTjilEE. 123 complishment then in fashion; she had an excellcDt know- ledge of Latin, Italian, and English. Her parents married her in her nineteenth year to the Marqnis du Chatelet, an honest but commonplace man considerably her senior. The young marchioness made her appearance iu the world with much IcLit. She was tall and graceful, and her blue eyes, dark hair, and expressive countenance entitled her, in youth, to the epithet of handsome. Her great talents long remained unsuspected. The world only saw in her a fine woman who sang and played exquisitely, and who seemed passionately fond of dress, hunting, and cavagnole. The Duke of EicheUeu was then at the height of his fame for gallantry; few of the women to whom he paid any atten- tion had sufficient principle to resist him. Madame du Chatelet, whose ideas of morality were those of her time, proved no exception to the general rule. The connexion between her and the duke was, however, extremely brief, and ended — very differently from most of his love intrigues — in a sincere and mutual friendship. Madame du Chatelet after- wards alluded to this transient liaison, in her letters to the Duke of BicheUeu, with a mixture of regret and levity char- acteristic of the period. "Who would have thought," she wrote to her former lover, after a fit of illness, " that friend- ship could have caused me to be regretted by Madame de Eichelieu, Voltaire, and you 1 I scarcely hoped for love to do this. We are happy only by these two feelings. I con- fess that in them lies all the happiness of my life." And further on, "I believe in my own worth since I begin to think that you have a sincere friendship fur me. You know my heart, and how really engrossed it is now " — (by Voltaire) — "I feel proud of loving in you the friend of my lover. This feeling would add to the pleasure which I find in our friendship, if I had not embittered it. I cannot forgive my- self for having entertained any other feeling for you, however slight it may have been." Of poor M. du Chatelet, or of regret at deceiving him, not one word. Madame du Chatelet loved pleasure, but she was not fitted 1 24 WOMAN IN rilANCE. for a merely worldly life. Wearied of dissipation, she entered with ardour on the study of the exact sciences. The brilliant but shallow Maupertuis was her teacher in geometry. He then enjoyed that high degree of female admiration which first fired the emulation of Helvetius. Whenever he walked in the Tuileries, Maupertuis was surrounded by a crowd of elegant and fashionable women. Geometry was then as much the rage as were the pantins at a later period. With some ladies it went so far as to induce them to study under the admired teacher. A kind of playful rivalry subsisted between Madame de Richelieu and Madame du Chatelet, for the lessons of their mutual friend, Maupertuis. With Madame du Chatelet, the matter was not, however, merely one of fashion ; as was proved by the rapid progress which she made in a science for which her mind was strikingly adapted She was studying the works of Newton when she met Voltaire, then recently returned from England, and, like her, an enthusiastic admirer of Newton's sublime discoveries. This similarity of tastes proved the first link between these two kindred spirits, and originated the long and celebrated connexion between the divine Emilie and the great sceptic of the eighteenth century. Enamoured of her beauty, and stiU more of her passionate devotion to science, Voltaire addressed his fair mistress, under the appropriate name of Urania, in a very tender strain. Madame du Chatelet was then in her twenty-eighth year. Voltaire was twelve years her senior. The loose maxims of the time justified their connexion in the opinion of the world and in their own. They might indeed have adopted a higher and nobler standard of morality, but that they did not do so must be less a matter of surprise than one of regret. As it grew more polished and sceptical, the aristocracy lost those virtues which can only exist in ages of a severe and enthusi- astic faith. The chivalrous honour of man, and the chastity of woman, first yielded to the corrupting breath of the times. The philosophy which both the lovers professed, was, more- over, neither severe nor restrictive : as their conduct, indeed, plainly shewed. Madame du Chatelet was one of the first .■\rADAME DU CHATKLET. 125 ladies of the aristocracy Avlio joined the pliilosopliic party ; but in this, as well as in her connexion with Voltaire, she still observed appearances, ^Yhicll her position in the world did not allow her to neglect, and accordingly attended mass with her lover, whilst, like him, she secretly wrote against Eevela^ tion. The same spirit of policy made Voltaire in his youth write verses in praise of the Virgin and the Saviour, whilst he attacked Christianity in private. Scepticism had not yet assumed the bold and open tone by which it was afterwards distinguished. Men still paid a vain show of outward respect to what they secretly hated, idly thinking that this dangerous irreverence would not pass beyond their own privileged ranks. Never was so much inconsistency of conduct displayed. The necessity of a religion for the inferior classes was contemptu- ously acknowledged by those who undermined it, apparently forgetting that the advantages of wealth and station they enjoyed rested on what they termed the ignorance and the fanaticism of the poor. If the privileges of rank were founded on folly and injustice, and if that religion which commands to bear injustice patiently was a dream, what security had they 1 It seems incredible that self-interest should not have checked all those philosophic and liberal tendencies, in the upper ranks at least. But it is a testimony to eternal truth, that even those who are to suffer most by its progress are involuntarily induced to forward its cause. Much of error as the growing philosophy contained, it nevertheless originated in a deep sense of the injustice and worthlessness of existing institutions. The only real matter of surprise is, that the philosophic aristocracy, who, whilst they acknowledged their privileges to be valueless in the eyes of reason, were no wise disposed |o relinquish them, should have thought of confining their feelings to themselves. There can be no attempt more futile, none which shews so slight an acquaintance with the laws by which society is governed, than that which would endeavour to limit good or evil knowledge to one peculiar class. Sooner or later it must pass the barrier fixed by human vanity and pride. 12G WOMAN IN FEANCE. The knowledge whicli the reader already possesses of the maxims of those times, will explain why the connexion of Voltaire and Madame du Chatolet was considered neitlicr guilty nor unusual by the societ\- in which they lived. No one therefore expressed any surprise when Voltaire took up his residence at Cirey, a splendid chateau which M. du Chatclet possessed in the province of Lorraine. As it was necessary, however, to observe appearances, Voltaire protested that his attachment for Madame du Chatelet was purely platonic. " I confess," he observed, " that she is tyrannical : one must talk about metaphysics when the temptation is to talk of love. Ovid was formerly my master, it is now the turn of Locke." M. du Chatelet either did not suspect the truth, or if he did, he felt indifferent to it. He certainly raised no objection to the sojourn of Voltaire under his roof, and was rather ilattered at being considered the host and patron of a man already enjoying European fame. As he spent the greatest portion of his time with his regiment, his presence proved little oi no restraint to the lovers, who treated him with great respect. The fifteen years which he spent at Cirey were perhaps the happiest Voltaire ever knew, notwithstanding the occasional differences which arose between him and Madame du Chatelet. To a man so eminently intellectual as he was, so much attached to every elegance and refinement of private life, no woman, unless one almost as highly gifted as himself, could have long proved attractive. Such, if the praise of a lover is to be trusted, was Madame du Chatelet : — " L'esprit sublime et la delicatesse, L'oubli cliarmant de sa propre beautS, L'amitie tendre et Taniour emporto, Sent les attraits de ma belle maitresse." The mind of Madame du Chatelet was greatly superior to her personal attractions, and even to her learning. Without excusing her relaxed morals, it must be admitted that, not- withstanding her errors, she possessed great qualities. As a friend, she was devoted and sincere. Her attachment for MADAME DTJ CHATELET. ] 27 Voltiiire was full of truth and earnestness. Slic made it Ler constant task to soothe his susceptible vanity, hushing up by lier personal influence the ridicule his imprudences so often excited, and concealing from him those contemptible libels of his enemies, by which he \Yas so deeply distressed during his whole lifetime, liladame du Chatelet was herself nobly in- difTereut to such attacks. On being shewn one day a pam- jjhlet in which she had not been spared, she calmly observed, " If the author has lost his time in -svriting such nonsense, I shall not lose mine in reading it." She learned the next day that the guilty individual had been imprisoned, and immedi- ately wrote to obtain his release. She succeeded, but never let him know from whom he had received this favour. Few women of har time were so free as Madame du Chatelet from that intriguing spirit and thirst for distinction by which almost all were then possessed. Science she loved for its own sake : for the pure and exquisite delights it yielded to her inquiring mind, and not for the paltry gratification of being considered a learned woman. She never sought to gather a literary coterie around her ; never shewed the least wish to dictate in matters of which she was so excellent a judge. Many persons with whom she was in the habit of associating remained unconscious of her great talents, so little did she care to display them. Indifferent to praise, unless when it came from experienced judges, and then she probably felt it to be her due, she always disdained the easy advantage of shining amongst tlie ignorant. It was this love of science for its own sake, this haughty contempt of easy and showy suc- cess, that rendered Madame du Chatelet infinitely superior to the women with whom she mingled ; and which almost mad- dened the envious Madame du Deffand, whilst it even dis- composed the philosophy of the more amiable Madame de StaaL At the same time it must be confessed that, even morality and religion set apart, the character of Madame du Chatelet was far from being a faultless one. With all her philosophy, she was as proud of her rank and birth as any court lady. 128 WOMAN IN FKANCE. She treated her inferiors with a cold superciliousness, that shewed she fully felt their vast distance from herself. Her delicacy on many points was nowise remarkable. According,' to Madame de Graffingy, she was in the habit of opening all the letters that left Cirey or came to it, probably fearing lest anything concerning herself or Voltaire should be divulged. Her temper was violent and imperious. She ruled despotically over her lover, and left him very little personal freedom. Had he yielded entirely to her influence in literary matters, he would have written fewer tragedies, and devoted more of his time to science and history. It was indeed chiefly to comply with her wishes that he wrote "L'Essai sur les Moeurs et I'Esprit des Nations." The good qualities of Madame du Chate- let consisted more in a certain haughty independence of mind, in an untiring affection for those whom she loved, than in any very amiable traits. She was deficient in gentleness and in many of the most winning qualities of woman, but there was nevertheless in her so little affectation and intrigue, and so much of what was good and true, as to command respect, at an epoch when other women, possessing her position in life and her great mental acquirements, would not have rested satisfied until they had made France and all Europe echo with their praises. It was by her simplicity of manner, as well as by the great solidity of her judgment, that Madame du Chatelet charmed Voltaire ; too keen a judge of everything like affectation to tolerate it long. Even as it was, his satirical vein could not always refrain from an indirect sneer at the divine Emilie's enthusiastic pursuit of algebra, which was somewhat singu- larly mingled with more frivolous tastes. Madame du Chate- let appears to have been very much attached to pompoms, a favourite ornament in the dress of the times. Voltaire ob- serves, in his correspondence : — " Cette telle ftme est nne etoile Qu'elle brode en mille fajons ; Son esprit est tres philosophe, Et son ooeur aime les pompoms." MADAME DU CUATELET. I 20 " JIais Ics pompoms ct Ic mondc sont de son iigc, et son mcritc est ail dossus de son age, de son soxe et du notre." According to tlic same authority, Voltaire himself was hy no means indilierciit to liis toilet, and appeared in Cirey attired with all the elegance of a courtier of Versailles. Tlie life of this learned couple in their delightful retreat was one of study, varied by elegant pleasures. The apart- ments they occupied at Cirey were adorned with all the luxuries art and wealth could devise. Costly hangings, choice pictures, and rare books ; everything, in short, which could attract the eye and please the mind was there. Voltaire caused, at great expense, a gallery to be fitted up with all the scientific instruments he and Madame du Chatelet needed. In this gallery also stood a statue of Cupid — no unapt illus- tration of their scientific loves — with the famous inscription beneath it : — " Qui que tu sois, voici ton maitre ! II Test, le fufc, ot lo doit etre." Over the entrance to this gallery, Voltaire had likewise caused to be inscribed : — *' Asile des beaux-arts, solitude oil men coeur Est toujours occupe dans uue paix profondc, C'est vous qxd donuez le bonbcur Qui promettait en vain Ic mondo ! " The door of the little belvedere where Madame du Chatelet studied was also poetically adorned : — " Du repos une douce etude ; I'eu de livres, point d'ennuyenx, Un ami dans la solitude, Voiia mon sort ! — il est houreux." Voltaire celebrated his love for Madame du Chatelet under almost every form. He wrote innumerable verses in her praise, and seemed never weary of mentioning her great talents and excellent qualities to his friends. The sincerity and disin- terestedness of her affection, the admirable strength and clear- ness of her comprehensive mind, are themes to which he ever willingly returns in his correspondence. Madame du Chatelet VOL. I. I 130 WOMAN IN FHANCR was no poet; she, however, composed