I agree with you in thinking the _MS. de Sainte-Helene_ a magnificent
performance. My father was strongly of opinion that it was not written
by Buonaparte himself, and he grounded this opinion chiefly upon the
passages relative to the Duc d'Enghien: _c'était plus qu'un crime,
c'était une faute_; no man, he thought, not even Nero, would, in writing
for posterity say that he had committed a crime instead of a fault. But
it may be observed that in the Buonaparte system of morality which runs
through the book, nothing is considered what we call a crime, unless it
be what he allows to be a fault. His proof that he did not murder
Pichegru is, that it would have been useless. Le _cachet de_ Buonaparte
is as difficult to imitate as _le cachet de Voltaire._ I know of but
three people in Europe who could have written it: Madame de Staël,
Talleyrand, or M. Dumont. Madame de Staël, though she has the ability,
could not have got so plainly and shortly through it. Talleyrand has
_l'esprit comme un démon_, but he could not for the soul of him have
refused himself a little more wit and wickedness. Dumont has not enough
audacity of mind.
_To_ MRS. STARK. [Footnote: Daughter of Mr. Bannatyne, of Glasgow.]
SPRING FARM, N.T. MOUNT KENNEDY, _June_ 1818.
I am, and have been ever since I could any way command my attention,
intent upon finishing those Memoirs of himself which my father left me
to finish and charged me to publish. Yet I have accepted an invitation
to Bowood, from Lady Lansdowne, whom I love, and as soon as I have
finished I shall go there. As to Scotland, I have no chance of getting
there at present, but if ever I go there, depend upon it, I shall go to
see you. Never, never can I forget those happy days we spent with you,
and the warmhearted kindness we received from you and yours: those were
"sunny spots" in my life.
_To_ MRS. EDGEWORTH.
BOWOOD, _Sept._ 1818.
I will tell you how we pass our day. At seven I get up--this morning at
half-past six, to have the pleasure of writing to you, my dearest
mother, be satisfied I never write a word at night: breakfast is at half
after nine, very pleasant: afterwards we all _stray_ into the library
for a few minutes, and settle when we shall meet again for walking,
etc.: then Lady Lansdowne goes to her dear dressing-room and dear
children, Dumont to his attic, Lord Lansdowne to his out-of-door works,
and we to our elegant dressing-room, and Miss Carnegy to hers. Between
one and two is luncheon: happy time! Lady Lansdowne is so cheerful,
polite, and easy, just as she was in her walks at Edgeworthstown: but
very different walks are the walks we take here, most various and
delightful, from dressed shrubbery and park walks to fields with
inviting paths, wide downs, shady winding lanes, and happy cottages--not
_dressed_, but naturally well placed, and with evidence in every part of
their being suited to the inhabitants.
After our walk we dress and make haste for dinner. Dinner is always
pleasant, because Lord and Lady Lansdowne converse so agreeably--Dumont
also--towards the dessert. After dinner, we find the children in the
drawing-room: I like them better and better the more I see of them. When
there is company there is a whist table for the gentlemen. Dumont read
out one evening one of Corneille's plays, "Le Florentin," which is
beautiful, and was beautifully read. We asked for one of Molière, but he
said to Lord Lansdowne that it was impossible to read Molière aloud
without a quicker eye than he had _pour de certains propos_: however,
they went to the library and brought out at last as odd a choice as
could well be made, with Mr. Thomas Grenville as auditor, "Le vieux
Célibataire," an excellent play, interesting and lively throughout, and
the old bachelor himself a charming character. Dumont read it as well as
Tessier could have read it; but there were things which seemed as if
they were written on purpose for the Célibataire who was listening, and
the Célibataire who was reading.
Lord Lansdowne, when I asked him to describe Rocca [Footnote: Second
husband of Madame de Staël.] to me, said he heard him give an answer to
Lord Byron which marked the indignant frankness of his mind. Lord Byron
at Coppet had been going on abusing the stupidity of the good people of
Geneva: Rocca at last turned short upon him--"Eh! milord, pourquoi donc
venez-vous vous _fourrer_ parmi ces honnêtes gens?"
Madame de Staël--I jumble anecdotes together as I recollect them--Madame
de Staël had a great wish to see Mr. Bowles, the poet, or as Lord Byron
calls him, the sonneteer; she admired his sonnets, and his Spirit of
Maritime Discovery, and ranked him high as an English genius. In riding
to Bowood he fell, and sprained his shoulder, but still came on. Lord
Lansdowne alluded to this in presenting him to Madame de Staël before
dinner in the midst of the listening circle. She began to compliment him
and herself upon the exertion he had made to come and see her: "O ma'am,
say no more, for I would have done a great deal more to see so great a
_curiosity!_"
Lord Lansdowne says it is impossible to describe the _shock_ in Madame
de Staël's face--the breathless astonishment and the total change
produced in her opinion of the man. She afterwards said to Lord
Lansdowne, who had told her he was a simple country clergyman, "Je vois
bien que ce n'est qu'un simple curé qui n'a pas le sens commun, quoique
grand poète."
Lady Lansdowne, just as I was writing this, came to my room and paid me
half an hour's visit. She brought back my father's MS., which I had lent
to her to read: she was exceedingly interested in it: she says, "It is
not only entertaining but interesting, as showing how such a character
was formed."
_To_ MISS RUXTON.