the women of the french salons-第16章

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es。　　〃I　go　out　into　the　pleasant　avenues；　I　have　a　footman　who　follows　me；　I　have　books；　I　change　place；　I　vary　the　direction　of　my　promenade；　a　book　of　devotion；　a　book　of　history；　one　changes　from　one　to　the　other；　that　gives　diversion；　one　dreams　a　little　of　God；　of　his　providence；　one　possesses　one's　soul；　one　thinks　of　the　future。〃

She　embellishes　her　park；　superintends　the　planting　of　trees；　and　〃a　labyrinth　from　which　one　could　not　extricate　one's　self　without　the　thread　of　Ariadne；〃　she　fills　her　garden　with　orange　trees　and　jessamine　until　the　air　is　so　perfumed　that　she　imagines　herself　in　Provence。　　She　sits　in　the　shade　and　embroiders　while　her　son　〃reads　trifles；　comedies　which　he　plays　like　Moliere；　verses；　romances；　tales；　he　is　very　amusing；　he　has　esprit；　he　is　appreciative；　he　entertains　us。〃　　She　notes　the　changing　color　of　the　leaves；　the　budding　of　the　springtime。　　〃It　seems　to　me　that　in　case　of　need　I　should　know　very　well　how　to　make　a　spring；〃　she　writes。　　She　loves　too　the　〃fine；　crystal　days　of　autumn。〃　　Sometimes；　in　the　evening；　she　has　〃gray…brown　thoughts　which　grow　black　at　night；〃　but　she　never　dwells　upon　these。　　Her　〃habitual　thoughtthat　which　one　must　have　for　God；　if　one　does　his　duty〃is　for　her　daughter。　　〃My　dear　child；〃　she　writes；　〃it　is　only　you　that　I　prefer　to　the　tranquil　repose　I　enjoy　here。〃

If　her　own　soul　is　open　to　us　in　all　its　variable　and　charming　moods；　we　also　catch　in　her　letters　many　unconscious　reflections　of　her　daughter's　character。　　She　offers　her　a　little　needed　worldly　advice。　　〃Try；　my　child；〃　she　says；　〃to　adjust　yourself　to　the　manners　and　customs　of　the　people　with　whom　you　live；　adapt　yourself　to　that　which　is　not　bad；　do　not　be　disgusted　with　that　which　is　only　mediocre；　make　a　pleasure　of　that　which　is　not　ridiculous。〃　　She　entreats　her　to　love　the　little　Pauline　and　not　to　scold　her；　nor　send　her　away　to　the　convent　as　she　did　her　sister　Marie…Blanche。　　With　what　infinite　tenderness　she　always　speaks　of　this　child；　smiling　at　her　small　outbursts　of　temper；　soothing　her　little　griefs；　and　giving　wise　counsels　about　her　education。　　Evidently　she　doubted　the　patience　of　the　mother。　　〃You　do　not　yet　too　well　comprehend　maternal　love；〃　she　writes；　〃so　much　the　better；　my　child；　it　is　violent。〃

Unfortunately　this　adoring　mother　could　not　get　on　very　well　with　her　daughter　when　they　were　together。　　She　drowned　her　with　affection；　she　fatigued　her　with　care　for　her　health；　she　was　hurt　by　her　ungracious　manner；　she　was　frozen　by　her　indifference　　　in　short；　they　killed　each　other。　　It　is　not　a　rare　thing　to　make　a　cult　of　a　distant　idol；　and　to　find　one's　self　unequal　to　the　perpetual　shock　of　the　small　collisions　which　diversities　of　taste　and　temperament　render　inevitable　in　daily　intercourse。　　In　this　instance；　one　can　readily　imagine　that　a　love　so　interwoven　with　every　fiber　of　the　mother's　life；　must　have　been　a　little　over…sensitive；　a　little　exacting；　a　trifle　too　demonstrative　for　the　colder　nature　of　the　daughter；　but　that　it　was　the　less　genuine　and　profound；　no　one　who　has　at　all　studied　the　character　of　Mme。　de　Sevigne　can　for　a　moment　imagine。　　How　she　suffers　when　it　becomes　necessary　for　Mme。　de　Grignan　to　go　back　to　Provence！　　How　the　tears　flow！　　How　readily　she　forgives　all；　even　to　denying　that　there　is　anything　to　forgive。　　〃A　word；　a　sweetness；　a　return；　a　caress；　a　tenderness；　disarms　me；　cures　me　in　a　moment；〃　she　writes。　　And　again：　〃Would　to　God；　my　daughter；　that　I　might　see　you　once　more　at　the　Hotel　de　Carnavalet；　not　for　eight　days；　nor　to　make　there　a　penitence；　but　to　embrace　you　and　to　make　you　see　clearly　that　I　cannot　be　happy　without　you；　and　that　the　chagrins　which　my　friendship　for　you　might　give　me　are　more　agreeable　than　all　the　false　peace　of　a　wearisome　absence。〃　　In　spite　of　these　little　clouds；　the　old　love　is　never　dimmed；　we　are　constantly　bewildered　with　the　inexhaustible　riches　of　a　heart　which　gives　so　lavishly　and　really　asks　so　little　for　itself。

The　Hotel　de　Carnavalet　was　one　of　the　social　centers　of　the　latter　part　of　the　century；　but　it　was　the　source　of　no　special　literature　and　of　no　new　diversions。　　Mme。　de　Sevigne　was　herself　luminous；　and　her　fame　owes　none　of　its　luster　to　the　reflection　from　those　about　her。　　She　was　original　and　spontaneous。　　She　read　because　she　liked　to　read；　and　not　because　she　wished　to　be　learned。　　She　wrote　as　she　talked；　from　the　impulse　of　the　moment；　without　method　or　aim　excepting　to　follow　where　her　rapid　thought　led　her。　　Her　taste　for　society　was　of　the　same　order。　　Her　variable　and　sparkling　genius　would　have　broken　loose　from　the　formal　conversations　and　rather　studied　brilliancy　that　had　charmed　her　youth　at　the　Hotel　de　Rambouillet。　　The　onerous　duties　of　a　perpetual　hostess　would　not　have　suited　her　temperament；　which　demanded　its　hours　of　solitude　and　repose。　　But　she　was　devoted　to　her　friends；　and　there　was　a　delightful　freedom　in　all　her　intercourse　with　them。　　She　has　not　chronicled　her　salon；　but　she　has　chronicled　her　world；　and　we　gather　from　her　letters　the　quality　of　her　guests。　　She　liked　to　pass　an　evening　in　the　literary　coterie　at　the　Luxembourg；　to　drop　in　familiarly　upon　Mme。　de　La　Fayette；　where　she　found　La　Rochefoucauld；　Cardinal　de　Retz；　sometimes　Segrais；　Huet；　La　Fontaine；　Moliere；　and　other　wits　of　the　time；　to　sup　with　Mme。　de　Coulanges　and　Mme。　Scarron。　　She　is　a　constant　visitor　at　the　old　Hotel　de　Nevers；　where　Marie　de　Gonzague　and　the　Princesse　Palatine　had　charmed　an　earlier　generation；　and　where　Mme。　Duplessis　Guenegaud；　a　woman　of　brilliant　intellect；　heroic　courage；　large　heart；　and　pure　character；　whom　d'Andilly　calls　one　of　the　great　souls；　presided　over　a　new　circle　of　young　poets　and　men　of　letters；　reviving　the　fading　memories　of　the　Hotel　de　Rambouillet。　　Mme。　De　Sevigne；　who　had　fine　dramatic　talent；　acted　here　in　little　comedies。　　She　heard　Boileau　read　his　satires　and　Racine　his　tragedies。　　She　met　the　witty　Chevalier　de　Chatillon；　who　asked　eight　days　to　make　an　impromptu；　and　Pomponne；　who　wrote　to　his　father　that　the　great　world　he　found　in　this　salon　did　not　prevent　him　from　appearing　in　a　gray　habit。　　In　a　letter　from　the　country　house　of　Mme。　Duplessis；　at　Fresnes；　to　the　same　Pomponne；　then　ambassador　to　Sweden；　Mme。　de　Sevigne　says：　〃I　have　M。　d'Andilly　at　my　left；　that　is；　on　the　side　of　my　heart；　I　have　Mme。　de　La　Fayette　at　my　right；　Mme。　Duplessis　before　me；　daubing　little　pictures；　Mme。　De　Motteville　a　little　further　off；　who　dreams　profoundly；　our　uncle　de　Cessac；　whom　I　fear　because　I　do　not　know　him　very　well。〃

It　is　this　life　of　charming　informality；　this　society　of　lettered　tastes；　of　wit；　of　talent；　of　distinction；　that　she　transfers　to　her　own　salon。　　Its　continuity　is　often　broken　by　her　long　absences　in　the　country　or　in　Provence；　but　her　irresistible　magnetism　quickly　draws　the　world　around　her；　on　her　return。　　In　addition　to　her　intimate　friends　and　to　men　of　letters　like　Racine；　Boileau；　Benserade；　one　meets　representatives　of　the　most　distinguished　of　the　old　families　of　France。　　Conde；　Richelieu；　Colberg；　Louvois；　and　Sully　are　a　few　among　the　great　names；　of　which　the　list　might　be　indefinitely　extended。　　We　have　many　interesting　glimpses　of　the　Grande　Mademoiselle；　the　〃adorable〃　Duchesse　de　Chaulnes；　the　Duc　and　Duchesse　de　Rohan；　who　were　〃Germans　in　the　art　of　savoir…vivre；〃　the　Abbess　de　Fontevrault；　so　celebrated　for　her　esprit　and　her　virtue；　and　a　host　of　others　too　numerous　to　mention。　　The　sculptured　portals　and　time…stained　walls　of　the　Hotel　de　Carnavalet　are　still　alive　with　the　memories　of　these　brilliant　reunions　and　the　famous　people　who　shone　there　two　hundred　years　ago。

Among　those　who　exercised　the　most　important　influence　upon　the　life　of　Mme。　de　Sevigne　was　Corbinelli；　the　wise　counselor；　who；　with　a　soul　untouched　by　the　storms　of　adversity　through　which　he　had　passed；　devoted　his　life　to　letters　and　the　interests　of　his　friends。　　No　one　had　a　finer　appreciation　of　her　gifts　and　her　character。　　Her　compared　her　letters　to　those　of　Cicero；　but　he　always　sought　to　temper　her　ardor；　and　to　turn　her　thoughts　toward　an　elevated　Christian　philosophy。　　〃In　him；〃　said　Mme。　de　Sevigne；　〃I　defend　one　who　does　not　cease　to　celebrate　the　perfections　and　the　existence　of　God；　who　never　judges　his　neighbor；　who　excuses　him　always；　who　is　insensible　to　the　pleasures　and　delights　of　life；　and　entirely　submissive　to　the　will　of　Providence；　in　fine；　I　sustain　the　faithful　admirer　of　Sainte　Therese；　and　of　my　grandmother；　Sainte　Chantal。〃　　This　gentle；　learned；　and　disinterested　man；　whose　friendship　deepened　with　years；　was　an　unfailing　resource。　　In　her　troubles　and　perplexities　she　seeks　his　advice；　in　her　intellectual　tastes　she　is　sustained　by　his　sympathy。　　She　speaks　often　of　the　happy　days　in　Provence；　when；　together　with　her　daughter；　they　translate　Tacitus；　read　Tasso；　and　get　entangled　in　endless　discussions　upon　Descartes。　　Even　Mme。　de　Grignan；　who　rarely　likes　her　mother's　friends；　in　the　end　gives　due　consideration　to　this　loyal　confidant；　though　she　does　not　hesitate　to　ridicule　the　mysticism　into　which　he　finally　drifted。

After　Mme。　de　La　Fayette；　the　woman　whose　relations　with　Mme。　de　Sevigne　were　the　most　intimate　was　Mme。　de　Coulanges；　who　merits　here　more　than　a　passing　word。　　Her　wit　was　proverbial；　her　popularity　universal。　　The　Leaf；　the　Fly；　the　Sylph；　the　Goddess；　her　friend　calls　her　in　turn；　with　many　a　light　thrust　at　her　volatile　but　loyal　character。　　This　brilliant；　spirituelle；　caustic　woman　was　the　wife　of　a　cousin　of　the　Marquis　de　Sevigne；　who　was　as　witty　as　herself　and　more　inconsequent。　　Both　were　amiable；　both　sparkled　with　bons　mots　and　epigrams；　but　they　failed　to　entertain　each　other。　　The　husband　goes　to　Italy　or　Germany　or　passes　his　time　in　various　chateaux；　where　he　is　sure　of　a　warm　welcome　and　good　cheer。　　The　wife　goes　to　Versailles；　visits　her　cousin　Louvois；　the　Duchesse　de　Richelieu；　and　Mme。　de　Maintenon；　who　loves　her　much；　or　presides　at　home　over　a　salon　that　is　always　well　filled。　　〃Ah；　Madame；〃　said　M。　de　Barillon；　〃how　much　your　house　pleases　me！　　I　shall　come　here　very　evening　when　I　am　tired　of　my　family。〃　　〃Monsieur；〃　she　replied；　〃I　expect　you　tomorrow。〃　　When　she　was　ill　and　likely　to　die；　her　husband　had　a　sudden　access　of　affection；　and　nursed　her　with　great　tenderness。　　Mme。　de　Coulanges　dying　and　her　husband　in　grief；　seemed　somehow　out　of　the　order　of　things。　　〃A　dead　vivacity；　a　weeping　gaiety；　these　are　prodigies；〃　wrote　Mme。　de　Sevigne。　　When　the　wife　recovered；　however；　they　took　their　separate　ways　as　before。

〃Your　letters　are　delicious；〃　she　wrote　once　to　Mme。　de　Sevigne；　〃and　you　are　as　delicious　as　your　letters。〃　　Her　own　were　as　much　sought　in　her　time；　but　she　had　no　profound　affection　to　consecrate　them　and　no　children　to　collect　them；　so　that　only　a　few　have　been　preserved。　　There　is　a　curious　vein　of　philosophy　in　one　she　wrote　to　her　husband；　when　the　pleasures　of　life　began　to　fade。　　〃As　for　myself；　I　care　little　for　the　world；　I　find　it　no　longer　suited　to　my　age；　I　have　no　engagements；　thank　God；　to　retain　me　there。　　I　have　seen　all　there　is　to　see。　　I　have　only　an　old　face　to　present　to　it；　nothing　new　to　sh