For this marriage, as well as for her former one, Madame de Stael has been severely censured. Many apologies, if any be really necessary, may be found for her. Since the death of her father, she had felt, more than before, the want of an essential accessory to her happiness.
Speaking of the asylum which she hoped to find in England, she said, "I feel the want of love, of cherishing, of some one to lean upon; if I can find in that country a man possessing real nobleness of character, I will gladly yield up my liberty." Heartbroken and disappointed, both as a woman and an author, she had returned to Coppet, to find her residence there more irksome and unhappy than ever. She was advised not to go farther than ten leagues from home; and fear lest she should involve her friends, induced her to forbid their coming to her. Her fears were not altogether without reason.
Regardless of the advice she had received, she made the tour of Switzerland with M. de Montmorency, and the consequence to him was exile from France. Another friend, the beautiful and celebrated Madame de Recamier, paid for a few hours' intercourse by exile to Lyons.
Imagination conjured up new terrors. The fear of imprisonment seized her, and she resolved to escape. The choice of a route perplexed her.
She passed her life, she says, in studying the map of Europe, to find how she could escape beyond the wide-spread poison-tree of Napoleon's power. She at length departed. England was the point of destination.
Passing through Germany, she was received at St. Petersburg with great distinction by the emperor, and, thence passing on her way, spent eight months at Stockholm with her old friend Bernadotte, crown prince of Sweden; with whom at Paris, in the early days of Bonaparte's career, she had been discovered concerting measures to stop his progress towards absolute power--a discovery which furnished an apology for the treatment she received.
The "Ten Years of Exile," which, after an intermission of several years, had been resumed, closes at Stockholm. In England, she met with a most cordial reception. Fashionable society courted her as a _lion_; the more intelligent and highly educated sought her for her genius.
Her work on Germany was published in London, and raised her reputation as a critic to the highest point. She was among the founders of the philosophical school of critics; who, not wasting their attention on the conventional forms of composition, look to the intrinsic qualities which constitute literary excellence. But she was not sufficiently dispassionate always to form a correct judgment. Her enthusiasm and susceptibility made her too indulgent. As she would often be thrown into ecstasies by a wretched hand-organ in the street, so she would be in raptures with verses, the melody of which pleased her ear. She would repeat them with great pomp and emphasis, and say, "That is what I call poetry! it is delicious! and all the more that it does not convey a single idea to me."
"Germany" was a gift of the greatest price to France. Her standards in literature had been fixed a century before, and to alter or advance them was deemed a work of impiety. A natural result was a want of vigor and of originality. She had imposed her fetters, too, on foreign nations. The cold, artificial spirit of the age of Louis XIV. long pressed, like an incubus, upon the literary spirit of Germany. But about the middle of the last century, the spell was broken. A literary revolution took place in that country, and, from being destitute of all national literature, Germany became possessed of one the most characteristic. To furnish a literary and mental portraiture of this emancipated nation, was a work requiring a rare combination of talents, and one which was executed by Madame de Stael with singular ability.
She hailed with delight the overthrow of Napoleon, which opened to her the way to Paris. But she never joined in the senseless cry which was raised, that he had neither talents nor courage. "It would be too humiliating for France, and for all Europe," she said, "that, for fifteen years, it had been beaten and outwitted by a coward and a blockhead." Her joy was, however, tempered by grief and indignation, that the soil of France, "cette belle France," should be desecrated by the feet of foreign invaders. To avoid witnessing the humiliating spectacle of Paris in the possession of barbarians, she retired to Coppet, where, in 1816, she renewed her acquaintance with Lord Byron, whose genius fascinated her, and who had been chief favorite while she was in England. She now gave him much advice as to his conduct, which he met by quoting the motto to "Delphine,"--"Man must learn to brave opinion,--woman to submit to it." But she no longer defended the truth of this epigraph. Always religious, the principles of Christianity now mingled more intimately in her sentiments.
Time, too, had wrought a change in her character: she was much softened, and appreciated more justly the real blessings and misfortunes of life. In her own family she found sources of happiness.
Her children were dutiful and affectionate, and the marriage of her daughter to the Duke de Broglie gave her pleasure. Her chief cause of disquietude was the ill health of her husband, in anticipation of whose death she composed a book, with the title, "The only Misfortune of Life, the Loss of a Person beloved." But she was not destined to be the sufferer now. She had ever despised the accommodation of the body, and gave herself no trouble about health. She affected to triumph over infirmity, and was wont to say, "I might have been sickly, like any body else, had I not resolved to vanquish physical weakness." But nature was not to be thus defied. Her health failed, and the use of opium aided the progress of disease. But sickness threw no cloud over her intellect; "I am now," she said, "what I have ever been--sad, yet vivacious;" but it displayed the moral beauties of her character in a more striking light. She was kind, patient, and devout. Her sleepless nights were spent in prayer. Existence no longer appeared to her in its gayest colors. "Life," she said, "resembles Gobelin tapestry; you do not see the canvass on the right side; but when you turn it, the threads are visible. The mystery of existence is the connection between our faults and our misfortunes. I never committed an error that was not the cause of a disaster." Yet she left life with regret, though death possessed for her no terrors. "I shall meet my father on the other side," she said, "and my daughter will ere long rejoin me."
"I think," said she, one day, as if waking from a dream, "I think I know what the passage from life to death is; and I am convinced that the goodness of God makes it easy; our thoughts become confused, and the pain is not great." She died with the utmost composure, at Paris, July, 1817.
Her husband survived her but a few months. "Grief put a period to his already precarious existence. He withdrew from Paris, to die beneath the beautiful sky of Provence, and there breathed his last sighs in the arms of his brother."
The chief works of Madame de Stael, and her peculiarities as an author, have already been spoken of. One work, published after her death, and the most powerful of all, remains to be mentioned. In the "Considerations on the French Revolution," she sought to blend the memoir with the philosophical history. The faults are what might have been expected. The details, too minute for the one, are too scanty for the other. In the selection of these she was biased by her personal feelings, but to a degree far less than was to be anticipated. Her feelings were warm and excitable; she had lived in the midst of the events of which she speaks; she had herself been an actor, and her father had borne a conspicuous part, in them; indeed, one grand purpose of the work is to exculpate him. That she should, under these disqualifying circumstances, have produced a work so temperate, and on the whole so impartial--one that exhibits such philosophical depth and comprehensiveness of vision--excites in us wonder and admiration. But it is not as a history that the work is interesting and valuable. It is that it exhibits to us the impressions made by the great events of which she speaks, and the scenes which she witnessed, upon a powerful and original mind. It abounds with profound reflections and brilliant remarks. The style, eloquent and impassioned, is in a high degree conversational, and, as we read it, we almost expect to hear the sound of the voice. The remarkable talent for discrimination and delineation of character, which distinguish her as a novelist, lead us to regret that it did not come within the design of the work to furnish us with historical portraitures of the distinguished personages of the period.
The few which she has given us, increase our regret, and mark her as a mistress in the art.
LADY HESTER STANHOPE.
The third Earl of Stanhope, father of the subject of our present sketch, possessed abilities which qualified him for any station; yet he devoted his ample fortune, his time, and his thoughts, to mechanics and to experiments in science and philosophy; with what success, the Stanhope printing press, many improvements in the process of stereotype printing, and his various papers on the electric fluid, are evidence. He married a daughter of the great Earl of Chatham; and of this marriage, Lady Hester Stanhope was the earliest fruit. She was born in 1776.
[Illustration: LADY HESTER STANHOPE.]
Genius was the only inheritance she received from her father. Upon the death of her mother, which happened when she was young, she was received into the house of her uncle, William Pitt, the younger, and was there brought up. Between this minister and his brother-in-law there was little sympathy of opinion. Stanhope was an enthusiast for the improvement of social institutions, and hailed the French revolution as the beginning of the change which he hoped for. So confident was he in those views, as to urge upon his children the necessity of qualifying themselves to earn a living by some honest calling. He could not approve the measures which the minister now adopted; and, as his children adhered in principle to their uncle, he renounced them, saying, "that, as they had chosen to be saddled on the public purse, they must take the consequences."
The genius and originality of Lady Hester made her an especial favorite with her uncle. She presided at his table, and he evinced his respect for her abilities, by employing her, after his retirement from office, as his secretary. Though to the multitude this great statesman appeared cold and unbending, with his intimates, and those whom he received into his private friendship, he was cheerful and affable; to women he was polite in the extreme, and, in the midst of his gravest avocations, would rise to pick up his secretary's fallen handkerchief.
Devoted to the affairs of state, Pitt paid no attention to his own pecuniary concerns, so that the only provision he could make for his niece at his death, was to recommend her to the favor of his king and country, who acknowledged their obligation to him by bestowing upon her a pension of twelve hundred pounds, annually.
Soon after the death of her uncle, she left England, and spent some years in visiting the chief cities of continental Europe. Her rank, her beauty, and her fortune, were alone sufficient to attract crowds of suitors; but they were all rejected. After satisfying her curiosity in Europe, she embarked, with a numerous retinue, for Constantinople, with the determination of making a long sojourn in the East, and taking with her a large amount of property. A storm overtook the vessel on the coast of Caramania, fronting the Island of Rhodes; the vessel struck against a rock, and soon went to pieces, burying Lady Hester's jewels and other property, to a large amount, in the waves.
Her own escape was almost miraculous. The piece of the wreck on which she had taken refuge was cast on the shore of a small, desert island, where she remained twenty-four hours, without help or food of any kind. At last, some fishermen of Marmoriga, who were in search of the remains of the wreck, found her out, and brought her to Rhodes.
Her resolution was not daunted by this disaster. She returned to England, collected the remains of her fortune, and, after investing a portion of it in the English funds, embarked once more for the East, taking with her articles for presents, and whatever else might be of service in the countries she designed to visit. Her voyage was prosperous, and she landed at the site of the ancient Laodicea, now called Latakia, between Tripoli and Alexandretta, on the coast of Syria.
In the neighborhood of this place she fixed her residence, and entered upon a course of preparation for her intended journeys into the most inaccessible parts of Arabia, Mesopotamia, and the desert. She strengthened her body by diet and exercise, and, from being weak and debilitated, became strong and vigorous as an Amazon. She studied the Arab language, and sought for intercourse with the various classes of Arabs, Druses, and Maronites of the country.
After having become perfectly familiar with the language, manners, and usages, of the country, she organized a large caravan, and, loading her camels with rich presents for the Arabs, set out on her travels.
She visited every place worthy of notice in Syria. At Palmyra numerous hordes of wandering Arabs assembled round her tent, to the number of forty or fifty thousand, and, charmed by her beauty, her grace, and her splendor, proclaimed her queen of that once imperial city, and delivered firmans into her hand, by which it was agreed that every European who should receive her protection might proceed in perfect safety through the desert, paying to them a certain fixed tribute.
The newly-proclaimed queen herself ran great hazard, on her return from Palmyra, and narrowly escaped being carried off by a tribe hostile to those of that region. She, however, received notice of her danger in season--by the swiftness of her horses, and a twenty-four hours' journey of almost incredible extent--to place herself and her caravan out of the reach of the enemy. The next few months she passed at Damascus, protected by the Turkish pacha, to whom the Porte had highly recommended her.
Satisfied, at length, with a life of wandering, Lady Hester settled herself on one of the mountains of Lebanon, near the ancient Sidon.
Quitting this place, the traveller enters upon a wild and barren country. Hill succeeds to hill, and all are divested of vegetation or soil. At last, from the top of one of these rocks, his eye rests upon a valley deeper and broader than the rest, bordered on all sides by more majestic but equally barren mountains. In the midst of this valley the mountain of Djoun rises, with a flat summit covered with a beautiful green vegetation. A white wall surrounds this mass of verdure, and marks the habitation of the "Sittee Inglis," or "English lady." It is a confused assemblage of small cottages, each containing one or two rooms, without windows, and separated from one another by small gardens. All the verdure was the result of her own labor; she created what to Eastern eyes might seem a paradise--gardens containing bowers of fragrant vines, kiosks embellished with sculpture and paintings, with fountains of marble; and arches formed of orange, fig, and lemon-trees.
Here she resided for many years in a style of Eastern magnificence, surrounded by a concourse of household officers, and a numerous retinue of young females,--upon whose education she employed herself,--and a host of servants, black and white. She held friendly intercourse with the Sublime Porte, with the various pachas, and with the chiefs of the numerous tribes of Arabs and others about her. Such was the state in which she lived, and the influence which she exerted, that she might well imagine herself "Queen of the Desert."
But the splendor of her reign was soon dimmed. Her treasures were not large enough to bear the unlimited draughts upon them. Her Arab friends, whose affections were only to be preserved by constant gifts, cooled towards her when these became less rich and less frequent; those who had accompanied her from Europe, died or deserted her; and she was at length left in a state of absolute retirement.
Some sources of influence still remained to her; one of these was in that power which the strong-minded and educated always exercise over the weak and ignorant. Astrology--a science long banished from Europe--still holds its sway in the East. The opinion went abroad that Lady Hester could read the stars, and procured for her that respect among the common people, and, to a certain extent, that personal security, which had formerly been purchased with the shawls of Cashmere, and the rich silver-mounted pistols of England.
But whilst practising these arts upon others, she became herself the victim of strange delusions. She came by degrees to believe that the history of all was written in the stars, and that she had there read the history of the world. The Messiah was soon to appear upon the earth, and by his side, mounted upon a milk-white mare of matchless beauty, which was then in her stable, she was to witness the conquest of Jerusalem, and the establishment of his kingdom. She had, too, in her stable the mare upon which her companion was to ride. This animal, in all other respects of beautiful proportions, had behind the shoulders a cavity so large and deep, and imitating so completely a Turkish saddle, that one might say with truth she was foaled saddled.
The appearance of an animal with this peculiarity, in itself a deformity, served as an incitement to credulity, and to keep up the delusion. The animal was watched with the greatest care by two grooms, one of whom was never to lose sight of her. No one had ever mounted her, and from her bearing one might have fancied that the creature was conscious of the admiration and respect which were entertained for her by all around, and felt the dignity of her future mission.
The talent which Lady Hester was supposed to possess was put in constant requisition by her credulous neighbors; nor was her power ever exercised for bad purposes. She used it to calm the passions of the violent; to induce the unjust and the oppressor to make reparation for their wrong-doings; and put it to other good uses, of which the following anecdote, related by herself, will furnish an example: "An Arab suspected his wife of talking too much with strangers in his absence, and one of his neighbors confirmed his suspicions. He went home, proceeded to strangle the unfortunate woman, and, when she became insensible, he dragged her to some distance, and commenced interring her: the first heap of sand which he threw upon her recalled sensation; she manifested symptoms of life, and he repented of his vengeance; he brought her to me half dead; told the story of her supposed guilt, but owned he was premature in strangling her, as he should have first got me to consult her star, to ascertain if she really deserved to die or not. I sent the woman to the _harem_, had her bled, and taken care of till she recovered, and then I summoned the man before me. 'My good friend,' said I, 'your wife's star has been consulted; take her back in peace, and thank God you have her; for it is written in the stars, "On vain surmises thou shalt not strangle thy wife, neither shalt thou hearken to the slanderers of her honor."' The man immediately held out his hand to his gentle rib; she kissed it, and forth he walked, desiring her to follow him, with the most perfect indifference. I asked the woman if she were afraid of another act of violence. She calmly replied, 'Is he not my husband?
Has he not a right to kill me, if he suspects me of doing wrong?'"
Lady Hester believed in the science of astrology to the fullest extent. She believed that we are all children of some one of the celestial fires which presided at our birth, and of which the happy or malignant influence is written in our eyes, on our foreheads, in our fortunes, in the lines of our hands, in the form of our feet, in our gesture, in our walk. She believed that, from these various elements, she could read the character and destiny of any individual who was but for a few moments in her presence. In accordance with her belief, she thought that skilful astrologers should be appointed to every district, to consult the heavenly bodies at the birth of every child; the nature of each natal star to be registered by them, and kept secret till the period of education, which is to be adapted to that particular calling which the star of every human being indicates.
The following somewhat poetical description of the personal appearance of Lady Hester is given by a traveller, who, in 1832, was suffered to visit her--a favor rarely granted to Europeans: "I was introduced into her cabinet by a little negro child. It was so extremely dark, that it was with difficulty I could distinguish her noble, grave, yet mild and majestic features, clad in an Oriental costume. She rose from the divan, advanced, and offered me her hand. She appeared to be about fifty years of age; but she possessed those personal traits which years cannot alter. Freshness, color, and grace, depart with youth; but when beauty resides in the form itself, in purity of expression, in dignity, in majesty, and a thoughtful countenance, whether in man or woman, this beauty may change with the different periods of life, but it does not pass away--it eminently characterized the person of Lady Hester Stanhope.
"She wore a white turban, and on her forehead was a purple-colored woollen fillet, which fell on each side of her head as low as her shoulders. A long, yellow Cashmere shawl, and an immense Turkish robe of white silk, with flowing sleeves, enveloped all her person in simple and majestic folds, while an opening of these folds upon the bosom displayed a tunic of rich Persian stuff, covered with flowers, which was attached round the neck by a clasp of pearls. Turkish yellow morocco boots, embroidered with silk, completed this beautiful Oriental costume, which she wore with that freedom and grace, as if she had never used any other from her youth."
Though Lady Hester retained her power over the lower classes by means of their superstitious fears, the neighboring chiefs were not to be thus restrained, and some of them sought by robbery to indemnify themselves for the loss of the accustomed presents. Hoping to coerce her into a renewal of them, they harassed her by petty vexations; her camels were seized; her servants were beaten; and at length, when she retaliated, a firman was procured, forbidding any Mussulman, on pain of death, to remain in her service, or to carry water to her house.
The severity of the last prohibition may be judged from the fact that the water for the use of her house and garden had to be brought from a river three or four miles distant. Her appeal, however, to the Porte procured the withdrawal of the firman, and saved her gardens from the destruction which a want of irrigation would soon have produced.
In 1837, a new source of vexation to Lady Hester arose. The British government, having received information that some of her English creditors were in a state of destitution, appropriated the pension which Lady Hester had so long received to their relief. This met with a spirited remonstrance on the part of her ladyship, who called to her aid the Duke of Wellington and other opponents of the whig administration. Failing in these efforts, she appealed to the queen herself, but with no better success. She did not long survive this new source of mortification. On hearing of her illness, the British consul at Beyroot, accompanied by Mr. Thomson, an American missionary, hastened to her assistance; but, on their arrival, nothing was left for them to do but to pay the last sad offices to her remains. She died on the 23d of June, 1839.
Various and opposing motives have been assigned for the unusual conduct of Lady Hester: we think, however, its explanation is to be found in an eccentric imagination, a turn for adventure, and that love of power which is inherent in the human breast. We can hardly consider it more extraordinary that one English lady should be found willing to accept a government under the sunny skies of Syria, than that so many English officers should seek for sway on the burning shores of Africa and the East Indies.
HANNAH MORE.
Hannah More was the youngest but one of the five daughters of Jacob More, who, after receiving an education for the church, bounded his wishes by the possession of a school at Stapleton, England, upon obtaining which, he married the daughter of a respectable farmer; and to the soundness of her judgment in the culture and regulation of her children, the credit and success which attended them are, in a great degree, to be attributed.
Like other intelligent children, Hannah More displayed at an early age a desire for knowledge and a love of books. To supply the want of the latter, her father was accustomed to relate to his children, from memory, the most striking events of Grecian and Roman history, dwelling much on the parallels and wise sayings of Plutarch. He would also recite to them the speeches of his favorite heroes in the original languages, and then translate them into English. Hannah thus acquired a taste for the Latin classics, an acquaintance with which she carefully cultivated, in defiance of her father's horror of _blue stockingism_, which was extreme, and which probably prevented his instructing her in Greek.
The bent of her mind displayed itself at an early age. Every scrap of paper, of which she could possess herself, was scribbled over with essays and poems, having some well-directed moral. Her little sister, with whom she slept, was the depositary of her nightly effusions; and, in her zeal lest they should be lost, she would sometimes steal down to procure a light, and commit them to paper. The greatest wish her imagination could frame, was that she might some day be rich enough to have a whole quire of paper; and, when this wish was gratified, she soon filled it with letters to depraved characters, of her own invention, urging them to abandon their errors, and letters in return, expressive of contrition and resolutions of amendment.
[Illustration: HANNAH MORE.]
Her elder sisters, having been educated with that view, opened a boarding-school for young ladies at Bristol; and under their care the school education of Hannah was completed. While yet a pupil, she attracted the notice and enjoyed the friendship of many eminent men.
She delighted to study the sciences with Ferguson, the astronomer; and such was his opinion of her taste and genius, that he submitted his compositions to her for the correction of errors in style. Of her conversational powers at this period an anecdote is related. A dangerous illness brought her under the care of Dr. Woodward, an eminent physician. On one of his visits, being led into conversation with his patient on literary subjects, he forgot the purpose of his coming; till, recollecting himself when half way down stairs, he cried out, "Bless me! I forgot to ask the girl how she was;" and returned to the room, exclaiming, "How are you to-day, my poor child?"
In her seventeenth year, she appeared before the public as an author.