the women of the french salons-第43节

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　against　morals；　the　world　which　hedges　itself　in　by　a　thousand　unwritten　laws　that　save　it　from　boredom。

After　the　death　of　the　Duchesse　du　Maine；　Mme。　du　Deffand　retired　to　the　little　convent　of　St。　Joseph；　where；　after　the　manner　of　many　women　of　rank　with　small　fortunes；　she　had　her　menage　and　received　her　friends。　　〃I　have　a　very　pretty　apartment；〃　she　writes　to　Voltaire；　〃very　convenient；　I　only　go　out　for　supper。　　I　do　not　sleep　elsewhere；　and　I　make　no　visits。　　My　society　is　not　numerous；　but　I　am　sure　it　will　please　you；　and　if　you　were　here　you　would　make　it　yours。　　I　have　seen　for　some　time　many　savants　and　men　of　letters；　I　have　not　found　their　society　delightful。〃　　The　good　nuns　objected　a　little　to　Voltaire　at　first；　but　seem　to　have　been　finally　reconciled　to　the　visits　of　the　arch…heretic。　　At　this　time　Mme。　du　Deffand　had　supposably　reformed　her　conduct；　if　not　her　belief。

She　continued　to　entertain　the　flower　of　the　nobility　and　the　stars　of　the　literary　and　scientific　world。　　But　while　the　most　famous　of　the　men　of　letters　were　welcome　in　her　salon；　the　tone　was　far　from　pedantic　or　even　earnest。　　It　was　a　society　of　conventional　people；　the　elite　of　fashion　and　intelligence；　who　amused　themselves　in　an　intellectual　but　not　too　serious　way。　　Montesquieu；　who　liked　those　houses　in　which　he　could　pass　with　his　every…day　wit；　said；　〃I　love　this　woman　with　all　my　heart；　she　pleases　and　amuses　me；　it　is　impossible　to　feel　a　moment's　ennui　in　her　company。〃　　Mme。　de　Genlis；　who　did　not　love　her　expressed　her　surprise　at　finding　her　so　natural　and　so　kindly。　　Her　conversation　was　simple　and　without　pretension。　　When　she　was　pleased；　her　manners　were　even　affectionate。　　She　never　entered　into　a　discussion；　confessing　that　she　was　not　sufficiently　attached　to　any　opinion　to　defend　it。　　She　disliked　the　enthusiasm　of　the　philosophers　unless　it　was　hidden　behind　the　arts　of　the　courtier；　as　in　Voltaire；　whose　delicate　satire　charmed　her。　　Diderot　came　once；　〃eyed　her　epicurean　friends；〃　and　came　no　more。　　The　air　was　not　free　enough。　　When　at　home　she　had　three　or　four　at　supper　every　day；　often　a　dozen；　and；　once　a　week；　a　grand　supper。　　All　the　intellectual　fashions　of　the　time　are　found　here。　　La　Harpe　reads　a　translation　from　Sophocles　and　his　own　tragedy。　　Clairon；　the　actress　in　vogue；　recites　the　roles　of　Phedre　and　Agrippine；　Lekain　reads　Voltaire；　and　Goldoni　a　comedy　of　his　own；　which　the　hostess　finds　tiresome。　　New　books；　new　plays；　the　last　song；　the　latest　word　of　the　philosophersall　are　talked　about；　eulogized；　or　dismissed　with　a　sarcasm。　　The　wit　of　Mme。　du　Deffand　is　feared；　but　it　fascinates。　　She　delights　in　clever　repartees　and　sparkling　epigrams。　　A　shaft　of　wit　silences　the　most　complacent　of　monologues。　　〃What　tiresome　book　are　you　reading？〃　she　said　one　day　to　a　friend　who　talked　too　earnestly　and　too　longsaving　herself　from　the　charge　of　rudeness　by　an　easy　refuge　in　her　blindness。　　

Her　criticisms　are　always　severe。　　〃There　are　only　two　pleasures　for　me　in　the　worldsociety　and　reading；〃　she　writes。　　〃What　society　does　one　find？　　Imbeciles；　who　utter　only　commonplaces；　who　know　nothing；　feel　nothing；　think　nothing；　a　few　people　of　talent；　full　of　themselves；　jealous；　envious；　wicked；　whom　one　must　hate　or　scorn。〃　　To　some　one　who　was　eulogizing　a　mediocre　man；　adding　that　all　the　world　was　of　the　same　opinion；　she　replied；　〃I　make　small　account　of　the　world；　Monsieur；　since　I　perceive　that　one　can　divide　it　into　three　parts；　les　trompeurs；　les　trompes；　et　les　trompettes。〃　　Still　it　is　life　alone　that　interests　her。　　Though　she　is　not　satisfied　with　people；　she　has　always　the　hope　that　she　will　be。　　In　literature　she　likes　only　letters　and　memoirs；　because　they　are　purely　human；　but　the　age　has　nothing　that　pleases　her。　　〃It　is　cynical　or　pedantic；〃　she　writes　to　Voltaire；　〃there　is　no　grace；　no　facility；　no　imagination。　　Everything　is　a　la　glace；　hardness　without　force；　license　without　gaiety；　no　talent；　much　presumption。〃

As　age　came　on；　and　she　felt　the　approach　of　blindness；　she　found　a　companion　in　Mlle。　de　Lespinasse；　a　young　girl　of　remarkable　gifts；　who　had　an　obscure　and　unacknowledged　connection　with　her　family。　　For　ten　years　the　young　woman　was　a　slave　to　the　caprices　of　her　exacting　mistress；　reading　to　her　through　long　nights　of　wakeful　restlessness；　and　assisting　to　entertain　her　guests。　　The　one　thing　upon　which　Mme。　du　Deffand　most　prided　herself　was　frankness。　　She　hated　finesse；　and　had　stipulated　that　she　would　not　tolerate　artifice　in　any　form。　　It　was　her　habit　to　lie　awake　all　night　and　sleep　all　day；　and　as　she　did　not　receive　her　guests　until　six　o'clock；　Mlle。　de　Lespinasse；　whose　amiable　character　and　conversational　charm　had　endeared　her　at　once　to　the　circle　of　her　patroness；　arranged　to　see　her　personal　friendsamong　whom　were　d'Alembert；　Turgot；　Chastellux；　and　Marmontelin　her　own　apartments　for　an　hour　before　the　marquise　appeared。　　When　this　came　to　the　knowledge　of　the　latter；　she　fell　into　a　violent　rage　at　what　she　chose　to　regard　as　a　treachery　to　herself；　and　dismissed　her　companion　at　once。　　The　result　was　the　opening　of　a　rival　salon　which　carried　off　many　of　her　favorite　guests；　notably　d'Alembert；　to　whom　she　was　much　attached。　　〃If　she　had　died　fifteen　years　earlier；　I　should　not　have　lost　d'Alembert；〃　was　her　sympathetic　remark　when　she　heard　of　the　death　of　Mlle。　de　Lespinasse。

But　the　most　striking　point　in　the　career　of　this　worldly　woman　was　her　friendship　for　Horace　Walpole。　　When　they　first　met　she　was　nearly　seventy；　blind；　ill…tempered；　bitter；　and　hopelessly　ennuyee。　　He　was　not　yet　fifty；　a　brilliant；　versatile　man　of　the　world；　and　saw　her　only　at　long　intervals。　　Their　curious　correspondence　extends　over　a　period　of　fifteen　years；　ending　only　with　her　death。

In　a　letter　to　Grayson；　after　meeting　her；　he　writes：　〃Mme。　du　Deffand　is　now　very　old　and　stone　blind；　but　retains　all　her　vivacity；　wit；　memory；　judgment；　passion；　and　agreeableness。　　She　goes　to　operas；　plays；　suppers；　Versailles；　gives　supper　twice　a　week；　has　everything　new　read　to　her；　makes　new　songs　and　epigramsaye；　admirablyand　remembers　every　one　that　has　been　made　these　fourscore　years。　　She　corresponds　with　Voltaire；　dictates　charming　letters　to　him；　contradicts　him；　is　no　bigot　to　him　or　anybody；　and　laughs　both　at　the　clergy　and　the　philosophers。　　In　a　dispute；　into　which　she　easily　falls；　she　is　very　warm；　and　yet　scarce　ever　in　the　wrong；　her　judgment　on　every　subject　is　as　just　as　possible；　on　every　point　of　conduct　as　wrong　as　possible；　for　she　is　all　love　and　hatred；　passionate　for　her　friends　to　enthusiasm；　still　anxious　to　be　lovedI　don't　mean　by　loversand　a　vehement　enemy　openly。〃

The　acquaintance　thus　begun　quickly　drilled　into　an　intimacy。　　Friendship　she　calls　this　absorbing　sentiment；　but　it　has　all　the　caprices　and　inconsistencies　of　love。　　Fed　by　the　imagination；　and　prevented　by　separation　from　wearing　itself　out；　it　became　the　most　permanent　interest　of　her　life。　　There　is　something　curiously　pathetic　in　the　submissive　attitude　of　this　blind；　aged；　but　spirited　womanwho　scoffs　at　sentiment　and　confesses　that　she　could　never　love　anythingtowards　the　man　who　criticizes　her；　scolds　her；　crushes　back　her　too　ardent　feeling；　yet　calls　her　his　dear　old　friend；　writes　her　a　weekly　letter；　and　modestly　declares　that　she　〃loves　him　better　than　all　France　together。〃

The　spirit　of　this　correspondence　greatly　modifies　the　impression　which　her　own　words；　as　well　as　the　facts　of　her　career；　would　naturally　give　us。　　We　find　in　the　letters　of　this　period　little　of　the　freshness　and　spontaneity　that　lent　such　a　charm　to　the　letters　of　Mme。　de　Sevigne　and　her　contemporaries。　　Women　still　write　of　the　incidents　of　their　lives；　　the　people　they　meet；　their　jealousies；　their　rivalries；　their　loves；　and　their　follies；　but　they　think；　where　they　formerly　mirrored　the　world　about　them。　　They　analyze；　they　compare；　the　criticize；　they　formulate　their　own　emotions；　they　add　opinions　to　facts。　　The　gaiety；　the　sparkle；　the　wit；　the　play　of　feeling；　is　not　there。　　Occasionally　there　is　the　tone　of　passion；　as　in　the　letters　of　Mlle。　Aisse　and　Mlle。　de　Lespinasse；　but　this　is　rare。　　Even　passion　has　grown　sophisticated　and　deals　with　phrases。　　There　is　more　or　less　artificiality　in　the　exchange　of　written　thoughts。　　Mme。　du　Deffand　thinks　while　she　writes；　and　what　she　sees　takes　always　the　color　of　her　own　intelligence。　　She　complains　of　her　inability　to　catch　the　elusive　quality；　the　clearness；　the　flexibility　of　Mme。　de　Sevigne；　whom　she　longs　to　rival　because　Walpole　so　admires　her。　　But　if　she　lacks　the　vivacity；　the　simplicity；　the　poetic　grace　of　her　model；　she　has　qualities　not　less　striking；　though　less　lovable。　　Her　keen　insight　is　unfailing。　　With　masterly　penetration　she　grasps　the　essence　of　things。　　No　one　has　portrayed　so　concisely　and　so　vividly　the　men　and　women　of　her　time。　　No　one　has　discriminated　between　the　shades　of　character　with　such　nicety。　　No　one　has　so　clearly　fathomed　the　underlying　motives　of　action。　　No　one　has　forecast　the　outcome　of　theories　and　events　with　such　prophetic　vision。　　The　note　of　bitterness　and　cynicism　is　always　there。　　The　na